


A Girlfriend for a Week

by this_is_kelly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:32:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/this_is_kelly/pseuds/this_is_kelly
Summary: Arthur conveniently forgets to tell his parents that he's single again, so when they expect him to bring a date to his sister's wedding, Merlin fills in.





	A Girlfriend for a Week

**A Girlfriend for a Week**

______

 

            Every Friday night, they met at the same pub at seven o’clock.  Arthur didn’t remember when the tradition started exactly, but they’d been doing it for at least the last two years.  Before that, it was more random.  They’d all met at university, in the same Intro to Psychology class.  Lance and Arthur had taken it just to fulfill a credit.  Gwen and Merlin had taken it as part of their degree.  They’d paired up for a group project, which annoyed Arthur because he thought he’d left group projects behind when he left secondary school. Once their project received full marks, they went to celebrate at a pub just off campus.  It became a tradition: at the end of a week full of classes, they’d meet up and get a drink and share a plate of chips.  It continued all throughout their schooling, and then they slowly moved to the city, one by one, and continued the tradition until all four of them were living in the same borough, only by the time they were adults, it had become the same night, at the same time, at the same pub. 

 

            Merlin and Gwen moved into the city first and let a flat together.  They’d both left schools with degrees in psychology. Merlin’s first job was an addiction specialist at the local prison, but he wasn’t cut out for that level of intensity and soon found a new job at a high-dollar rehabilitation center.  He was able to get Gwen an interview there as well, and she was hired quickly afterwards.  Lance had to complete an additional year of school to get his nursing degree and immediately started a job at the large public hospital in the city. He moved into a flat only a street away from Merlin and Gwen.  Arthur, on the other hand, had to stay at university for another two years to get his masters degree in architecture.  He moved in the same block of flats as Lance, but threw himself into work, and within three years had gotten promoted enough times to move into an extremely posh part of town, which was more his style.

 

            Even though they had all moved around and changed jobs, they had remained friends for the last nine and a half years, and Friday night dinners had anchored them.

 

            However, the last four Fridays, Arthur had been late to meet up with his friends.  This particular Friday, he walked through the maze of tables to the corner booth.  He tried to loosen his tie as he sat down next to Merlin.  Across from him, Gwen and Lance already had half-drunk beers and a mostly-eaten plate of chips.  Merlin must have been late, too, because he didn’t have anything in front of him. 

 

            “Nice of you to join,” said Gwen.  “Long week at work?”

           

            Arthur rolled his eyes.  “Sort of – I need a whisky,” he said to the waitress as she approached the table, before she could greet him.  She blinked, scribbled on her notepad, and then looked at Merlin.

 

            “Oh, er, I dunno …”

 

            “We have blackberry gin,” said the waitress.  “You liked it last time.”

 

            “Did I?  I don’t remember.”

 

            “That was the night you somehow made it back to my flat without any shoes,” said Arthur.

 

            “Right,” said Merlin slowly.  “That night is all a blur.  But!  Sounds delicious.  With tonic?  And a lime. Er, two limes.”

 

            Arthur rolled his eyes. 

 

            “Anything to eat?”

 

            Merlin ordered a sandwich with extra chips – “ _Shocking_ ,” mumbled Arthur, and then Merlin elbowed him hard in the side – and Arthur ordered a salad without any dressing – “ _I thought only girls tried to lose weight before weddings_ ,” and Arthur elbowed him back harder.

 

            Their waitress left, and Arthur rubbed his eyes.

 

            “So speaking of weddings,” he began.

 

            “Oh right!  When does her majesty fly in?” asked Gwen.

 

            “On Sunday.”  Arthur tried to loosen his tie again. 

 

            “Oh, good lord,” sighed Merlin.  He slapped at Arthur’s hand and undid the knot of his tie.  

 

            “Thanks.  Anyway, she flies in on Sunday morning with my father.  Apparently Leon isn’t coming until Wednesday.”

 

            “Why do you look so stressed?” asked Lance.

 

            Arthur grimaced.  “Because I sort of never told anyone in my family that Marilyn and I broke up.”

 

            “Who the hell is Marilyn?”

 

            “She was that blonde girl,” said Gwen, “I think … was she blonde?”

 

            “No,” said Arthur.

 

            “Who was the blonde, then?”

 

            “Sarah?” offered Lance.

 

            “No, the blonde was Sophie.  Sarah was the girl with the dreads.”

 

            “Oh, right.  I liked her. Whatever happened to her?”

 

            Arthur rolled his eyes.

 

            “Right.  Well, which one was Marilyn?”

 

            “The redhead who was taller than him,” said Merlin.

 

            “Did I meet her?” Lance asked Gwen.

 

            She shook her head.  “I don’t think so.  I think I met her when we went to that awful club … but, Arthur, you went on two dates with her!”

 

            “It was more than _two_ ,” said Arthur, but he could hear the defeated tone in his voice.

 

            “Wasn’t that over a year ago?” asked Lance.

 

            “Yes,” mumbled Arthur.  

 

            “Why would you tell your sister and father you were dating Marilyn in the first place?  I never got the impression she was all that serious,” said Merlin.  “She never even made it to Friday dinner with us.”

 

            “No one has ever made it to Friday dinner,” said Lance.

 

            The waitress dropped off their drinks and before he even took a sip of his whisky, Arthur asked her to bring him two more.  He could feel Merlin’s eyes on him and he shrugged.

 

            “So I’ll uber home,” he said.  “Like a normal Friday night.”

 

            Merlin smirked and took a sip of his drink.  “Oh, wow.  This really is delicious.”

 

            “Anyway,” continued Gwen.  “Echoing Merlin – why would you tell your family you were dating her in the first place?”

 

            “It’s a whole thing,” replied Arthur.  He put his whisky glass to his lips, tipped back his head, and downed it. “When my mother got cancer—”

 

            “ _Ugh_ ,” said Merlin, “The whole cancer thing is such a downer.”

 

            “Your sarcasm is only okay because she’s not dead,” said Gwen.

 

            Arthur ignored them both.  “When my mom got cancer, she said her dying wish was to see both her kids get married. I was only seventeen, so it was a ridiculous notion, but then she got better.  Except her cancer came back a little over a year ago—”

 

            “Wait, _what_?” said Merlin, surprise in his voice.  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

            Arthur ignored the shared glance between Gwen and Lance, and shrugged.  “I don’t know.  But now she’s on the marriage kick pretty strong and my father has jumped on the bandwagon, too.  Won’t bloody shut up about it.  I told Morgana I was going on a date with Marilyn, and then when my father asked how it went later … I just never corrected them.  So now they assume I am going to take her to the wedding – my invitation said ‘Arthur Pendragon and guest’ – and when I show up dateless I’m sure my father will tell me all about how I am breaking my mother’s heart.”

 

            Everyone was silent.  The waitress dropped off Arthur’s two whiskies and before she could leave again, Lance asked her to bring them all another round – “Actually, yeah … make it two. It’s going to be an interesting night.”

 

            Arthur had already downed his second whisky and handed the empty glass back to the waitress. 

 

            “So …”  Arthur cleared his throat.  “So, Gwen I was wondering …”

 

            Lance narrowed his eyes.  “I already don’t like the sound of this.”

 

            “Well, seeing as how no one in my family has ever met you …  You look like you could be named Marilyn.”

 

            “Sorry, no-go, friend,” said Gwen.  “Your sister follows me on Instagram.  She knows I’m with Lance.  And that my name is _Gwen_.”

 

            “Then I’m afraid one of you is just going to have to kill me.”

 

            “I volunteer,” said Merlin, almost too cheerily.

 

            “No, you’d enjoy it too much,” replied Arthur. 

 

            “So you didn’t tell anyone because you didn’t want to break your mother’s heart? That’s kind of sweet.”  Gwen frowned.  “But you’re not particularly sweet as a general rule.”

 

            “Eh … it was less about my mother’s heart and more about not wanting to listen to them talk endlessly about how I need to settle down and marry someone. They want me to find some nice girl who will take care of me and cook me dinner and, honestly, that sounds boring.”

 

            “I used to say the same thing before I started dating Gwen.”  Lance shrugged.

 

            “Yeah, except I don’t really take care of you or cook you dinner,” said Gwen.

 

            “You buy me dinner and remind me to do my laundry.  That’s close enough.”

 

            “Just tell the truth,” said Merlin.  “Lying has to be exhausting.”

 

            “Or find a girl to impersonate Marilyn,” suggested Gwen.

 

            “Again,” said Merlin, “ _exhausting_.  Do you even know any girls other than Gwen?”

           

            “No,” said Arthur miserably.

 

            “Just take another date.  How much could you have possibly told them about Marilyn?  You talk to your parents, what, once a month?”

 

            “Less than that for my father, but I guess my mum calls a handful of times a month. I do text Morgana a lot, though.”

 

            “See?” said Merlin imploringly.  “Just take someone else, and then act dumb when they assume her name is Marilyn. Tell them they must have been mistaken.”

 

            “That’s a terrible idea,” said Arthur.

 

            “Actually,” Gwen started, “I don’t think it is.  It could work.  Especially if you take someone to the wedding who has a name that sounds like Marilyn.”

 

            “You have a friend with a similar name?” asked Arthur.

 

            “Of course.”

 

            “Wait.  What does she look like?  I know the whole ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ bit, but I do have rather high standards.”

 

            “Do you really, though?” asked Lance.

 

            “Moving along,” said Arthur, “who is she?”

 

            Gwen nodded towards Merlin.  “ _He’s_ right there.”

 

            Merlin stopped mid-sip and looked around the table.  “Wait, what?”

 

            “Huh.  Well.  She’s not wrong,” said Lance.  “Marilyn?  Merlin? You could just tell your family they heard you wrong, and you never corrected them because you weren’t sure how they’d take you coming out.”

 

            “But I’m not gay.”

 

            “But Merlin is, so you’re halfway there,” offered Gwen.  “And didn’t you snog that bloke back in uni?”

 

            “I think it could work,” said Lance.  “If you’re so hellbent on having a date to this wedding – and a date who you can pretend you’ve been dating for over a year – who better than your best mate? You already spend most of your free time with Merlin anyway, you know everything about each other—”

 

            “Except that his mum’s cancer was back,” mumbled Merlin.

 

            “—so you wouldn’t have to pretend too much.  How sick is your mum anyway?”

 

            Arthur sighed.  “Sick enough that I don’t want to tell her I lied.”

 

            “But just sick enough to continue lying to her?” asked Merlin.

 

            “Yes,” said Arthur.   “This is my sister’s wedding … I really don’t think it’s the time to take all the focus away from her.”

 

            “Right.”

 

            “I’m not gay, though,” Arthur said again.

 

            “Eh,” said Gwen.  “Like you said, Beggars can’t be choosers.”

 

            “How about someone asks Merlin how he feels about being Arthur’s fake girlfriend?” said Merlin. 

 

            “It’s okay,” said Arthur.  “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.  I’ll figure something out.”

 

            “Oh yeah?” challenged Gwen.  “Like what?”

 

            “Aren’t you friends with my sister on Instagram anyway?” Arthur asked Merlin. “It probably wouldn’t work.  She’d know you weren’t my boyfriend.”

 

            “Would she though?” asked Lance.  He pulled his phone out of his back pocket.  “You really should join some social media.  It’d be good for you.”  He slid the phone across the table.  “That’s Merlin’s account.”

 

            Arthur picked up the phone and began scrolling.  “They’re all of plates of food.  Seriously?  All you take are pictures of what you eat and drink?  Oh, there’s one of the two of us.”  He gave the phone back to Lance.

 

            “She wouldn’t know the difference.  Merlin doesn’t post anything personal anyway.”

 

            “Again – how about someone asks Merlin how he feels about being Arthur’s fake girlfriend?”

 

            Arthur shook his head. “It’s okay, Merlin.  I already said I wouldn’t ask you to do this.”

 

            The waitress brought their food and the next rounds of drinks.  The four of them began to eat in awkward silence. 

 

            “That’s it,” said Gwen.  “I think it’s time for shots.”

______

 

            Arthur woke up the next morning on top of his covers.  His tongue felt very thick and sticky.  He sat up and groaned.  His hangovers only got worse the older he got.  He got out of bed and looked down.  He only had on one sock and his shirt was unbuttoned.  He still had on his trousers, but they were undone. He figured he passed out asleep before finishing undressing.  He made it out of his bedroom and to the kitchen to get some water.

 

            “Why are you so loud?”

 

            Arthur jumped and almost dropped his glass.  His flat was open and the kitchen opened up into his living room, and on his sofa was a very disheveled Merlin.

 

            “I don’t remember you coming home with me last night.  Why aren’t you sleeping in the guestroom?”

 

            Merlin sat up and scratched his head.  “Where’re my jeans?”

 

            Arthur looked around the room.  “They’re on the chair.”

 

            “Ah.”  Merlin stood and stretched.  He still had on his t-shirt, but he left the jeans where they lay, and shuffled into the kitchen, knobby knees and pale thighs, boxers mostly hidden by his shirt. “Coffee?”

 

            “Christ,” said Arthur.

 

            “Merlin,” corrected Merlin.

 

            “Hilarious.”  Arthur opened his cabinets and got out his coffee canister and began to prep his coffee maker.  “Where did Gwen and Lance end up?”

 

            “Back at my flat, I assume.  I told them to just move in together already, but Gwen doesn’t want to until I’ve found another flat-mate.”

 

            “Are you actually looking for one?”

 

            “No. I don’t have any other friends. I’ll have to find a smaller flat, or Lance can move in and I’ll move out.  I don’t really fancy listening to them shag any more than I already have to.”

 

            “I see.  I don’t have any cream.”

 

            “Don’t care.  I’ll drink it black.”  Merlin cleared his throat.  “Why didn’t you tell me your mum’s cancer was back?  You usually tell me everything – and in great detail.”

 

            “Good question, that.”  Arthur paused.  He pressed Start on the coffee pot and leaned back against the countertop.  “I don’t have a good answer for you.”

 

            “You could have told me.”

 

            “When I think about it, it makes me … sad.”

 

            “Are you afraid to cry in front of me?  I’ve never seen you cry, but I promise I wouldn’t be mean about it.” When Arthur didn’t answer, Merlin changed the subject completely.  “If you want me to be your girlfriend, I will.”

 

            “No, that’s a terrible idea.”

 

            “But _is it_?  I know almost everything about you.  I end up here almost every Friday night after the pub, so I know what you look like in the morning and how you always clean your teeth before drinking tea, which you’ll go do as soon as you pour me a cup and set the kettle on for yourself.  You only keep coffee here for me anyway.  Your parents won’t try to set you up on any dates or grill you on why you aren’t married yet.”

 

            “How would it even work?”

 

            “I don’t know.  I’ve never been in a fake relationship before.  Except for the one in my head all during primary school with me and Tommy Phillips.  He was a year ahead of me and played football.  It was such a simpler time.”

 

            “Why would you do that for me?  This would go beyond best mate territory.”

 

            “It’ll be a funny story to tell the net time we go to the pub.  But you do know I would make this incredibly uncomfortable for you.  It’ll be a favor, but I’m very affectionate when I have a boyfriend.”  Merlin’s grin looked positively evil.  “Watching you squirm may just be all the payment I need in exchange.  Oh, and you have to pay for all my dinners and drinks for the next year.”

 

            “I pay for them anyway.  But please don’t make any inappropriate jokes.  My sister has a sense of humor, but my father certainly does not.”

 

            “Right.  No jokes about how Arthur loves to be a bottom.  Got it.”

 

            “Oh my god.”

 

            “I’m only mildly kidding.”

 

            “Mildly?”

 

            “You’d love it.”

 

            “You can’t be my girlfriend.”

 

            “Too late.  My coffee’s done.  Go clean your teeth, your morning breath smells.”

______

 

            Merlin insisted on going to the airport with Arthur on Sunday to pick up Morgana and Uther.  They had to uber back to the pub to get Arthur’s car (Merlin didn’t have a car, he always took the tube everywhere or ubered with Arthur after they got thoroughly drunk on Friday nights) and then made their way to the airport.  Arthur was quiet on the ride, running scenarios in his head of what this meeting would look like.

 

            “Why isn’t your mum coming?  Is she sick?”

 

            “She can’t be away from her doctor.  She’ll come in next weekend for the actual ceremony.”

 

            “I’ve known you for almost ten years now and I’ve never met your family.”

 

            “That was on purpose.”

 

            “Liar.”

 

            “I don’t know,” said Arthur honestly.  “My sister has never visited me, and I really only go back on my mum’s birthday and Christmas.”

 

            They waited by baggage claim for nearly twenty minutes, Arthur rambling about how this was a terrible idea, and Merlin smirking next to him.

 

            “If you really don’t want to, I can just go back to being your best mate.”

 

            “Maybe that’s a better idea,” said Arthur.  “Shit, there they are.  Morgana!”

 

            A pretty girl with long brown hair waved and nearly sprinted over to Arthur, throwing her arms around him in a large hug.  She looked nothing like Arthur who was blonde haired and blue eyed.  

 

            “Hello!” she exclaimed.  “It’s so good to see you.  What did you do to your hair?  Did you wake up like this, or did you purposefully muss it up?  You should come home more often.”

 

            “Eh,” said Arthur, “maybe not.  Father and I get along better when there’s a thousand miles between us.  Anyway.  Morgana, this is Merlin.”

 

            Morgana turned and smiled.  If she was confused over who Merlin was, she didn’t show it.  She shook his head and said, “I like your shoes.”

 

            Arthur glanced at Merlin’s feet.  He had on canary yellow converse sneakers.  Of course he did.  Why would he dress like a normal human being when meeting his family?

 

            “Thanks.  And to answer your question, he totally mussed it up this morning.  He doesn’t look nearly this good when he wakes up.”

 

            “I’m fascinated that you know what he looks like in the mornings.”

 

            “Right?” Merlin smirked.

 

            “How was your spinach omelet?” Morgana asked.

 

            “Too much spinach, not enough feta,” answered Merlin.  “You drink the same whisky as your brother.”

 

            “I know.  It’s the only thing that gets me through the airplane ride.”

 

            “Uh,” said Arthur, “you guys _did_ just meet, right?”

 

            “She posted on Instagram during her flight,” said Merlin.

 

            “And he posted your breakfast from this morning.  You had eggs, ham, and toast.”

 

            “You posted my breakfast, too?”

 

            Merlin shrugged.  “I like food. That’s what I usually post.  You should really get a social media account somewhere and stop pretending it’s the middle ages.”

 

            “Son,” Uther said as he approached.  He held out his hand for Arthur to shake.  “I thought you were bringing your girlfriend for us to meet.”

 

            “No, not my girlfriend,” Arthur began.

 

            “Of course not.  Are you here alone?  What happened to … Marilyn, was it?  Your mother will ask about her, you know.”

 

            “Oh, not Marilyn,” said Arthur.  “I actually—”

 

            “Not Marilyn?  Another bites the dust, then?  Arthur, your mother is going to be here next weekend.  In five days.  What are you going to tell her?  She just wants to see her children marry before she dies.  And if she can’t have that, she at least wants to know you’re going to be happy and taken care of.  I’m not surprised you lost another one.”  Uther shook his head.  “Well?”

 

            “I …er …” stammered Arthur. 

 

            “What do you do that all these women keep breaking up with you?”

 

            Arthur frowned and clenched his fists.

 

            Merlin took a step forward.  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  My name isn’t Marilyn.  It’s _Merlin_.  I know it’s a weird name, but there you have it.”

 

            Uther’s gaze was cold and his eyes narrowed.  Arthur waited for Merlin to shrink back, but he didn’t seem intimidated. 

 

            It was Morgana who spoke first.  “Shut. The fuck.  Up,” she said.  “Since when?”

 

            “We met in university, first year,” answered Merlin, “but we started dating a little over a year ago now, I think.  I’m terrible with dates.”  He reached his arm around Arthur’s waist and rested his hand on Arthur’s hip, pulling him close. 

 

            “It makes sense,” said Morgana slowly.  She looked as though she was thinking hard about something.  “I did always think it was weird almost all of your posts were of dinner with my brother.”

 

            “Not _all_ of them,” exclaimed Merlin. “But he’s so posh, you know?  He hates eating at home, and he always takes me to these new hip restaurants with weird food.”

 

            “Of course,” said Morgana.  “It wouldn’t kill him to take a cooking class, but he’d rather spend the money out.”

 

            “Or on expensive takeaway.”

 

            Morgana sniggered.  “Right? At least that part of him hasn’t changed.”

 

            “None of me has changed,” said Arthur.

 

            “Except your hair!”

 

            “Why don’t you give him grief about his hair?  It’s ridiculous.”

 

            Merlin touched the ends of hair, which was rather messy and had grown past the tops of his ears.  “I do it to hide these things – they’re so big.”

 

            “Aw, I like them,” said Morgana, “gives you character.”

 

            “He has enough bloody character without his ears giving him more,” said Arthur.

 

            “If you’re quite done,” snapped Uther.  “I really thought it was Marilyn.”

 

            “Oh, Arthur, shit,” said Merlin in a mocking tone.   “Did I just out you?  What the hell?  I thought you’d told them?”

 

            Neither Morgana nor Uther seemed to pick up on the sarcasm, so Arthur pressed on, “No, I thought I said ‘Merlin’ but either way … Surprise?”

 

            “I think it’s wonderful,” said Morgana, linking her arm through Merlin’s. “I wasn’t particularly excited to have to go through an entire week of listening to whatever empty-headed barbie doll Arthur was currently dating had to say.”

 

            “There’s been a lot of them over the last decade,” admitted Merlin.

 

            Arthur already hated this.  Morgana and Merlin becoming friends was nothing sort of a nightmare.  Soon they would be sharing Arthur’s most embarrassing stories. 

 

            “We can talk about this later,” said Uther.  He grabbed his suitcase when it passed by on the carrousel.  Arthur grabbed Morgana’s when she pointed at it. 

 

            They walked to Arthur’s car, with Merlin and Morgana leading the way.  She still had her arm linked through his and kept laughing at whatever Merlin whispered in her ear.  It was nice to see his sister laugh; truthfully, it wasn’t something he got to see very often when they were growing up.  Things in the household were harsh and quiet.  Their father didn’t speak too much, and when he did, it was usually criticisms.  Their mother was very demure and tended to concede with whatever Uther said.  In hindsight, she was sicker throughout their childhood than Arthur realized, only no one really told them until he and Morgana were much older.  Still, seeing Morgana laugh now made Arthur smile. 

 

            Uther seemed to have grown much older since the last time Arthur saw him.  What was left of his hair was gray and cropped close to his head.  He had wrinkles by the corners of his eyes and mouth, and his voice seemed thicker. Arthur hoped his mother hadn’t aged as quickly.

 

            His father had booked a room at the Four Seasons in the middle of the city. They dropped him off at the front, with Uther telling Arthur he’d see him later that evening for dinner – “I’ll call your mobile later.  I’m assuming you made reservations somewhere decent.”  The car ride there had been quiet except the occasional outburst of laughter from Morgana as she and Merlin whispered in the back seat.

 

            Morgana went back to Arthur’s flat with him and Merlin.  She was excited to see where her brother lived.  They parked in the underground parking and used the elevator to get to the fourteenth floor. Arthur used his phone to open the door –

 

            “Are you serious?  Could you be any worse?” laughed Morgana.

 

            “He pretends to be very posh,” said Merlin, walking in behind her.  “He can open his own front door with his phone, but he had to get rid of the television because he couldn’t figure out how to record anything.”

 

            “If you’d just—”

           

            “I know,” interrupted Merlin, “do it for you, but where’s the fun in that?”

 

            Morgana looked around the room.  It was large, with a white kitchen, with quartz countertops and stainless steel appliances, overlooking the living room with extra-large gray sofas and a glass coffee table, with the dining room off to the side, a perfect triangle.

 

            “This is so modern,” she said. 

 

            “This is so expensive, is what you mean,” corrected Merlin.

 

            “What’s through the hallway?”  But she was already walking down it.  “Ah, is this your guestroom?” she called out.  “It’s so nice!  Am I allowed to look in your room?”

           

            “ _No_ ,” snapped Arthur.  “Get back here, you harpy.”

 

            Morgana sauntered back into the room, grinning.  “Well, I love it.  It absolutely screams ‘Arthur’ in here.  Oh, and you even have a coffee maker?  When did you start drinking coffee?”

 

            “No, it’s Merlin’s,” said Arthur. 

 

            “That’s so sweet!  I had no idea Merlin lived with you,” said Morgana. 

 

            Arthur glanced at Merlin who had an absolutely _wicked_ gleam in his eye.  He was too far away from Arthur to elbow, so he tried to catch his eye, let him know that _absolutely not_ , they did _not_ live together.  But Merlin smiled and—

 

            “I guess Arthur forgot to tell you guys a lot of things.  But, yeah, fun, right?  He snores, but it’s not too bad.  He’s pretty compromising, which I’m guessing wasn’t the case when you two grew up together?”

 

            “No, he was positively revolting.  Threw tantrums if he didn’t get his way.”

 

            “I can only imagine.  I can’t wait to hear stories.”

 

            “I have a million of them,” said Morgana.  “I’m so glad you live here.  Staying the week with you two is going to be so much fun.”

 

            “I’m sorry,” said Merlin, eyes widening, “come again?”

 

            “Oh yes, _Mer_ lin,” said Arthur, “did you forget Morgana was staying here with _us_ this week?”

 

            Merlin looked terrified to meet Arthur’s gaze, but he slowly turned his head and looked at him sheepishly. 

 

            “Whoops,” he said.  “Slipped my mind.”

 

            “Oh!” cried Morgana.  “I forgot my suitcase in your car.  I remembered where you parked, so I can just zip down and grab it.  Be just a tick.”  She grabbed Arthur’s phone on her way out.

 

            As soon as she left, Merlin said, “Well, she’s certainly a delight.”

 

            “I’m going to murder you,” said Arthur. 

 

            At least Merlin had the decency to look miserable.  “I’m really sorry.  I figured she was going to the hotel later tonight.  I don’t remember you saying she was literally staying _here_ with you.  I thought you meant ‘here’ as in the same city!  I can’t stay here all week.  I have work!”

 

            “It’s not as though you have a car anyway.  I’ll take you.  I’m off all bloody week to help her with this wedding nonsense.”

 

            “But my clothes—”

 

            “Get Gwen to bring you over a bag.”

 

            “And my computer—”

 

            “It’s still here from when you slept drunk on my sofa Friday night.”

 

            “Your sister will be in the guestroom.  I can’t sleep on the sofa.  Where am I supposed to sleep?”

 

            “I guess – you’ll have to sleep – in my room,” Arthur said through gritted teeth.

 

            “Unless you want to tell her the truth,” challenged Merlin.  “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.  I hog the covers.  But then again … you snore, so we’re probably equal.  I’ll let you sleep on the floor if you’re feeling particularly gentlemanly.”

 

            “This.  Is. Ridiculous.  A prisoner in my own home.”  Arthur rubbed his eyes.  He heard Merlin take a few steps.  When he dropped his hand, Merlin was barely a foot away from him.  He smoothed the front of Arthur’s jumper and brushed the fringe from his eyes.

 

            “You’re my best mate, and I don’t want to bollocks this up for you.  I was trying to make you squirm, and I didn’t think it through.  I’m sorry. Don’t look so miserable.  I won’t make any other decisions about our fake relationship.”

 

            Arthur nodded.  “Thanks.”

 

            “I’ll let you take the lead.  If I keep going, next thing you know we’ll be inviting them to _our_ wedding.”

 

            Arthur knew Merlin was kidding, but his heart still skipped.  “Mm, funny.”

 

            “You still want to keep the charade up?”

 

            “You heard my father.  That’s what he’s always like when I’m not dating someone.  Asking me what’s wrong with me that I can’t keep a girl around, telling me I’m going to break my mother’s heart.  It’s too much.  I don’t know if he’s even capable of saying something positive to me.  And honestly, I wish he’d put half the amount of energy he does with asking me about my bloody romantic life into taking an interest in my job.  That’s a subject we could actually have a decent conversation about.”

 

            “Then I’m here to help as long as you want me to.  Maybe I’ll be a buffer and he’ll stop bombarding you with relationship questions and you can actually have a _real_ conversation with him for once.”

 

            Merlin was still standing extremely close to him.  Arthur put a hand on his shoulder.  He wanted to thank him, to tell him how much he appreciated it, but all that came out was, “You smell like my cologne.”

 

            “That’s because it is yours.  I put it on this morning before we left.”

 

            “Why?”

 

            Merlin shrugged.  “I like it. And it’s too expensive for me to just buy for myself.”

 

            “I didn’t think you’d want to smell like me all day.”

 

            Merlin flushed but before he could answer, and before Arthur could ask any more questions, Morgana reentered the flat. 

______

 

            “ _And then_ ,” Merlin whispered harshly, “I somehow was telling his bloody sister we were living together.”

 

            Gwen giggled loudly. 

 

            “Shush!  They’ll hear you.”  Merlin ushered her further down the corridor, away from Arthur’s front door. 

 

            “So that’s why you needed the bag full of clothes.”

 

            Merlin groaned.  “I can’t believe it.  Me and my big mouth.  I don’t want to live here all week!  I’d rather be at home.”

 

            Gwen raised her eyebrows.  “Really Merlin?  I’m surprised you two don’t already share a flat.  You end up staying there most weekends anyway.”

 

            “I do not.”

 

            Merlin didn’t think it was possible for her eyebrows to go any higher – but then, there they were, almost hidden behind her hairline.

 

            “Well, that’s because Lance is always at ours and sometimes I need a break from listening to the heterosexual bedroom noises.”

 

            Gwen sniggered and rolled her eyes.  “You keep telling yourself that,” she said.  “Most men don’t have weekly sleepovers with their best mates unless they want to, you know, have _sleepovers_ with their best mates.”

 

            “That’s not what happens.  I usually end up on the sofa.  Sometimes in the guest bed, but I rarely make it that far.”

 

            Gwen sighed.  “Listen, I know you think you’re doing Arthur a favor, and I know it was my idea in the first place, but … just be careful, okay?”

 

            “What does that mean?”

 

            Gwen shrugged.  “Just what I said.  Be careful.”

 

            “I’m not going to sleep with him.  I think I can pull off being a fake girlfriend without having to do that.”

 

            “I didn’t mean ‘be careful’ like going to buy a pack of condoms.  I meant be careful with _you_.”

 

            “Uh huh,” said Merlin slowly.  “Listen, thanks for the bag.  I appreciate it.”

 

            Gwen smiled.  “Of course.”

 

            Merlin went back into Arthur’s flat as quietly as he could.  He threw the bag in the closet by the front door, hoping Morgana wouldn’t notice.  Thankfully, she and Arthur were too busy looking at pictures on his laptop at the dining table.

 

            “I’m just showing Arthur pictures of the ballroom at the hotel where the reception is going to be.  I haven’t seen it myself.  I’m entrusting all of this to my wedding planner.”

 

            Merlin sat down next to Arthur.  “So explain to me how it came to be that you’re getting married here.  You’re not from here.”

 

            “That’s easy.  We moved around so much when we were little – with Dad’s job in the military.  There was never a place that ever really felt like home.  I met Leon on base.  Which is _mental_ because I always said I’d never want to be a military wife.  Whoops? But Leon is from here so I just let him pick out all the locations.  The church is one he grew up in, and the hotel is one Dad always picks out.  But then, maybe one day Leon will leave the military for the private sector like Dad and make millions of dollars.” 

 

            “Leon doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to ever leave the service,” said Arthur. “I hope you’re prepared.”

 

            Morgana ignored him and pulled up a screen of the seating arrangements for the reception.  “You’ll have to excuse where it says ‘Marilyn,’” she apologized.  “Although my brother being gay makes a lot of sense.”

 

            “How?” cried Arthur.

 

            “Because, you dolt!  You could never keep a girl.  You were never in a relationship longer than a handful of months, but Merlin’s been posting pictures of your dinner plates for years now.  I should have guessed it sooner.”

 

            Arthur’s face darkened.  “That fucking Instagram account is going to be the death of me, and it’s not even mine.”

 

            “Sorry,” said Merlin.  And he truly was.  Even though this was supposed to be a lark, his sister believed it so wholeheartedly that he felt bad for deceiving her, and even worse for Arthur whose whole heterosexuality was now being called into question.

 

            “No,” said Arthur lowly.  “It’s fine.” He reached over and put his hand on Merlin’s knee.  “I know you don’t mean any harm.”  He turned back to Morgana.  “Now, you said you already bought my tux?”

 

            Merlin tried to listen to them talk about the wedding, about the tuxes, the wedding party, and Arthur’s speech.  But Arthur still had his hand on Merlin’s knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth ever so slightly.  Maybe he was trying to be comforting or reassuring, or maybe this was part of the game so his sister would believe they were a couple, but all it was doing to Merlin was making him more aware that Arthur wasn’t actually his.

           

            Later that night, Arthur went to dinner with his father.  The plan had been for everyone to go together, but when Arthur got off the phone, he told them Uther wanted it to be just the two of them.

 

            “This may be worse than if I had told the truth from the beginning,” Arthur said to Merlin as they walked down to the garage.  They’d left Morgana upstairs to take a shower and unpack her things.

 

            Merlin shrugged.  “No backing out now, I think your sister kind of loves me.”

 

            “Figures.  Now it’ll be her heart I’ll have to worry about breaking when the wedding is over and I tell everyone we’ve broken up.”

 

            “Don’t let your father bully you,” Merlin said suddenly and anxiously. “Actually, don’t even let him talk to you about being gay or having a man named Merlin as your girlfriend.   You have what they want: a relationship – so there’s no point in dragging out the details. Force him to talk to you about your architectural firm.”

 

            “Maybe you’re right.”  Arthur sighed, and then groaned, and then walked up to his car and opened the door.  “Thanks for being a good girlfriend.”

 

            “I’m not really doing anything differently than I’ve ever done.  I’ve always been your best mate.”

 

            Arthur looked at him and didn’t say anything.  Merlin felt the back of his neck heat and he hoped he wasn’t blushing. Then, Arthur did something he only did when he was thoroughly drunk – he hugged Merlin.

 

            “Thanks,” he mumbled into Merlin’s neck.

 

            Then as suddenly as he was hugging him, he got into his car, turned it on, and back out of his spot.  Merlin watched him drive away.

 

            Back in the flat, Merlin grabbed his bag out of the front closet and quickly walked into Arthur’s bedroom.  He dumped all his clothes on the bed and shoved the bag behind the headboard to hide it. He rummaged through everything looking for his pajama bottoms. 

 

            _U forgot to pack my pajamas!_ Merlin texted to Gwen. 

 

            _Haha_ , she replied.  _No I didn’t._

______

 

            The television was on when Arthur got back from dinner, but surprisingly it was Morgana sitting on the sofa and not Merlin. 

 

            “How was dinner?” she asked, muting the TV.

 

            “It was … weird,” Arthur replied slowly.  He walked to the other sofa and leaned against the armrest, facing her.  “Surprisingly, Dad didn’t want to talk about Merlin.  He said he was trying to come to terms with it in his head, and he told Mum, and she cried happy tears knowing I was with someone, and then we spent the entire night talking about the wedding.  He drilled me on what my stupid speech was going to be.  But it was overall, not terrible.”

 

            “I’m _shocked_.”

 

            “How was your night?”

 

            “Merlin ordered pizza.  He said you hate pizza.  What kind of heathen are you?”

 

            Arthur shrugged.  “I don’t like foods I have to eat with my hands.”

 

            Morgana looked as though she was struggling not to say something snarky. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and moved on.  “Anyway. We mostly talked about you.”

           

            “I’m sure exchanging stories where I look terrible.”

 

            Morgana shook her head.  “Actually, no.  Well, some. I didn’t know you played football last year.”

 

            “Some rec team in the city, yeah.  It was fun, kind of a last minute thing.  Our mate Lance did it with me.”

 

            “Merlin said he went to all your games.”

 

            “Well, him and Gwen, Lance’s girlfriend.” 

 

            “Right … And then we talked about how you took him to that Annie Leibowitz exhibit.”

 

            “I didn’t take him so much as I went with him—”

 

            “You drove him there, bought the tickets, and dinner after?”

 

            “I always buy dinner.  I make significantly more—”

 

            “He said it was the perfect first date that he never realized he went on until months later when he found the ticket stubs sitting on top of your dresser.”

 

            “I forgot to throw them away.”

 

            “Sure, that’s what he said he thought too.  Until he found them again later.  In a different place.”

           

            “Wait, what?”

 

            “He said he found them in your wallet last week.  Like you were purposefully keeping them.”

 

            “He grabbed my wallet to pay the delivery guy the last time we ordered Chinese,” said Arthur.  “Huh.”

 

            “You’re a romantic after all.”

 

            Arthur took a deep breath.  “Yeah,” he said.  “I didn’t realize he’d seen them in there.  Shit.”

 

            “Shit what?” asked Morgana.  She had a calculating look in her eye.  He recognized it from their childhood, from whenever she was on the verge of figuring something out.

 

            “Shit as in I don’t give Merlin enough credit,” said Arthur.  “Is he already in bed?”

 

            “He said he was really tired.”

 

            “Right.  Well. Good night, then.”

 

            “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

 

            Arthur stood and stretched.  “I have to take Merlin to work, and then I guess it’s just you and me.  I’m your chauffer for the week, so you have to tell me what’s on your agenda.”

 

            “Brilliant.  I love the idea of manservant Arthur.  Get to cater to me this week instead of everyone always catering to you.”

 

            “Uh huh.  Good night, Morgana.”

 

            “I meet with the wedding planner at the hotel at noon.”

 

            “Great.”

 

            “Can I come with you to drop off Merlin at work?”

 

            “No.”

 

            “Awesome.  I’ll see you then.”

 

            Arthur tried to be quiet when he opened the door to his bedroom.  One of the bedside table lamps was on, but the rest of the room was dark.  Arthur went through his bathroom to the closet on the other side.  He undressed, throwing his clothes into the hamper, and slipping a t-shirt on before going back towards his bed. 

 

            Merlin was asleep.  Arthur pulled back the covers and sat down.  He turned off the light.  Merlin stirred and turned over, facing Arthur.

 

            “S’was dinner?”

 

            “I’m sorry?”  Arthur laid down on his back and pulled the covers up around his waist.  He looked up at the dark ceiling.

 

            “How was dinner?”

 

            “It was okay.”

 

            “Good.”

 

            “Hey Merlin?”

 

            “Hmm?”

 

            “Thanks for going to all my football games.”

 

            Merlin opened his eyes.  Arthur glanced over at him.  “Did I have a choice?” he asked.

 

            “You didn’t have to go if you didn’t want to.”

 

            “Mmm,” hummed Merlin.  “Keep telling yourself that.”

 

            And then he was back asleep.

 

            The next morning Arthur and Merlin slipped out of the flat before Morgana woke up. Arthur drove Merlin to work, stopping by the closest Starbucks for Merlin’s coffee, and then went back to his flat.  He went with Morgana to the meeting with her wedding planner, but spent most of the time on his phone.

           

            _I cannot believe I agreed to hang out with my sister all day while she does this wedding planning shit.  Leon isn’t even here_ , he texted to Merlin.

 

            _im sorry._

 

            _They’re talking about the layers of her cake. Apparently there’s seven different flavors_.

 

_lemon, red velvet, vanilla, chocolate, carrot, coconut, & strawberry_

_How the hell do you know that?_

_she told me last night_

_You should really be here instead of me. Rest of the week, take off work, and you can drive around to all these wedding places._

            _haha_

_I’m not playing around.  She likes you better than she likes me._

 

            Merlin didn’t reply after that, which usually meant he was with a client. Arthur sighed and texted Gwen and Lance, asking if they wanted to meet up for dinner that night and finally meet his sister.

 

            After the meeting with the wedding planner was over, Arthur took Morgana out for a light lunch, and to one of the art museums she had never been to but always wanted to visit.  They picked up Merlin from work around six and went straight to the restaurant where they met Gwen and Lance. 

 

            “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you!” exclaimed Gwen.  “After following you online for so long, it’s like I already know you.”

 

            “Same,” squealed Morgana.  She sat down at the head of the table, with Merlin to her right and Gwen to her left. Arthur sat next to Merlin and tried to ignore their talk of insta-whatever, and focus on the menu instead.

 

            “Arthur?”

 

            “Huh?”  He looked up. “What?”

 

            “I asked you if there were any good gay clubs around here?” Morgana asked.

 

            “How should I know?”

 

            Morgana widened her eyes. 

 

            “I mean, I don’t really frequent gay clubs.”

 

            “Let’s go to one after dinner,” said Morgana.  “I’d love to see my brother in his element.”

 

            “Pretty sure a club isn’t going to be where that happens,” said Arthur.  Was it hot in the restaurant or was his blood pressure actually rising?

 

            “It’ll be fun.  Besides, I’d like to go dancing without having to worry about what Leon would think if he saw me surrounded by men.”

 

            “I agree,” said Gwen, “it’ll be fun.  But if you want to see Arthur dance, you’ll have to get him completely hammered.”

 

            “Brilliant.  And my wedding isn’t until Saturday, so plenty of time for your hangover to wear off.”

 

            “Great,” said Arthur sarcastically.

 

            “Besides, I’d like to see more of you and Merlin together.  Dad called me earlier and asked me what I thought of him.” She grinned.  “I said the jury was still out on whether you two would last.”

 

            “Oh, they’ve been in love since university,” said Gwen, her tone playful, but she kept her eyes on the menu.  “I think I’ll get the salmon.”

 

            “Is it good?” asked Merlin.  “I’ve never had it before.”

 

            “You’d hate it,” grumbled Arthur.  “Get the tempeh.”  He shut his menu.  “If you lot are dragging me to a gay club, I’m going to need a lot more alcohol.  I should’ve left my car at home and just taken an uber.”

 

            Four whiskies and a filet mignon later, Arthur was in the back of a town car, Merlin pressed against his side, on the way to some club Merlin promised was “delightful.”  Morgana insisted on calling a car service instead of uber, which truthfully Arthur preferred, but Merlin had always made such a fuss about them that Arthur had started using the app on his phone instead (which, of course, Merlin had to help him set up).

 

            “This is a terrible idea.”

           

            From the other side of Merlin, Gwen laughed.  “I think it’s brilliant.  We’ll have so much fun.  We haven’t gone out dancing since we were twenty.”  When she turned her attention back to Lance, Arthur leaned in closer to Merlin.

           

            “You’re not wearing my cologne,” he said.

 

            “Er, no.”  Merlin flushed.  He’d been doing a lot of that the past two days.

 

            “I have a feeling if tonight goes the way Gwen and my sister want it to go, you’ll be wearing it before we get back home anyway.”

 

            Merlin’s eyes widened and he ran a hand through his hair.  “That might have been the dirtiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

 

            Arthur rolled his eyes.

 

            The bar they ended up at was called Crisis; the irony was not lost on Arthur. There wasn’t a line outside, but there was a bouncer at the door checking IDs.  Gwen, Lance, and Morgana went in first.  Arthur pulled his out but waited for Merlin to do the same.

 

            “Ah, Merlin!” said the bouncer.  “Nice to see you again.  It’s been ages!”

 

            “Ah, yes, hello.  Heh. Right.”

 

            “At least six months, yeah?”

           

            Merlin rubbed the back of his neck.  “Surprised you still remember me.”

 

            “Where you been hiding?”

 

            “Oh, you know … converting the city’s finest heterosexual bachelors to the dark side.”

 

            The bouncer glanced at Arthur.  “This bloke? I’ve seen you pull better, but he’s not too bad.  Have a good time.”

 

            Merlin laughed nervously, said goodbye, and pushed Arthur through the door inside. 

 

            “What.  Was. That?” laughed Arthur.  “Were you a regular here?  How come I never knew?”

 

            “It’s kind of awkward, isn’t it?”

 

            “Why?”

 

            “Because, I really only came here when I, you know … wanted to get laid.”

 

            “This is amazing,” said Arthur.  “I figured you just were incredibly picky.  You’ve only had one boyfriend since I’ve known you.”

 

            “No, plenty of men find me attractive.  Just because the idea is shocking to _you_ doesn’t mean it’s shocking to most people in here.”

 

            “No, no,” said Arthur, stepping in front of Merlin.  “I didn’t mean – you just never once spoke about it.”

 

            “Spoke about getting laid?  No, I tend to keep that stuff quiet.”

 

            “But you came in here a lot?”

 

            “Couple times a month,” admitted Merlin.  “For the last few years.”

 

            “That bloke said you hadn’t been in a while.”

 

            “Right.”

 

            “How come?”

 

            “Your sister is going to wonder where we are.  Come on.”  Merlin took Arthur’s wrist and led him through the hallway into the open floorspace of the club.  There were stairs up to a bar, and another bar was behind the dancefloor.  Tables and benches lined the sides of the club, most were occupied, but a few were still empty.  The club was mostly men, but a few women littered the crowd, some dancing together, some dancing with men. 

 

            They spotted Gwen and Lance already sitting at a table.  As they approached it, Arthur realized Merlin had gone from holding his wrist, to holding his hand.  They squeezed onto the bench just as Morgana came back, her hands full of shot glasses.  She placed them on the small table in front of them. 

 

            “This round’s on me,” she said loudly over the music.  “Cheers.”

 

            Everyone picked up their glasses and clinked them together.  Arthur threw his back.  Straight vodka. 

 

            “One more,” said Merlin, getting up, “and then we’ll dance.”  He disappeared to the bar.

 

            “Don’t think I missed you holding his hand,” Gwen said in Arthur’s ear.

 

            “Shut up,” he said.

 

            “I’ve never been to a gay club before,” said Lance.  “I don’t think I’ve seen so many shirtless men since last time I was at the beach.”

 

            Arthur looked around.  This was a first for him, being in a gay club.  He wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought he might be, but it was still a little bit unnerving.  A group of three men had stopped dancing and turned to look over at them.  Arthur tried to ignore them and focus on what his friends were saying.  One of the men walked over, leaning down to Arthur’s ear.

 

            “Hey, I’m Owen, what’s your name?”

 

            “Arthur.”

 

            “Nice.”  Owen smiled. “You want to dance?”

 

            Merlin came back over, setting down their five shots on the table.  He looked over at the new arrival and smirked. “Making friends already?”

 

            “I’m Owen.”

 

            “Merlin.  That’s my boyfriend.”  He nodded towards Arthur. 

 

            “Every night?”

 

            “Yeah, sorry.”

 

            “All the good ones are always so domesticated,” complained Owen.  To Arthur he said, “If you change your mind, come dance with us.”

 

            “He won’t, but thanks.”

 

            Morgana cackled loudly as Owen walked back to his friends.  “That was amazing!  I’ve never seen you look so uncomfortable.”

 

            “It’s his first time here,” said Merlin.  “I should’ve warned him probably.  He’s very posh and fit, a lot of blokes find that attractive.”

 

            “What did he mean by ‘every night’?” asked Lance.

 

            “Some gay men are monogamous but a lot aren’t.  Many are in open relationships.”

 

            “Is this tequila?” asked Arthur.

 

            Merlin rubbed the salt from the rim of his shot glass on Arthur’s wrist. “Yep.”

 

            “Oh, you’re mean.”

 

            Morgana licked the salt off her glass, shot it back, and then sucked on the lime.  “Wow. Tequila.  It’s like I’m eighteen again.  Brilliant.  I’m off to dance.  Come on.” She stood and offered her hand to Gwen who had just finished her own shot.  They skipped off to the dancefloor. 

 

            Arthur barely noticed.  Merlin had taken his wrist and licked the salt off, slowly, his eyes on Arthur’s. He drank the tequila in one go, and sucked the juice out of his lime.  His grin was positively wicked.  He picked up the last shot glass and handed it to Arthur. 

 

            “Your sister’s watching,” he said.  “Better make it good.”

 

            “Is that a challenge?”

 

            “Always.”

 

            Arthur reached out and cupped Merlin’s cheek.  He slid his fingers into his hair and gently pulled his head to one side, exposing his neck.  He carefully rubbed the salt onto Merlin’s skin, just under his jaw.  Arthur licked his neck, and then instead of pulling away, he stayed, kissing Merlin’s jaw, sucking in the skin, lightly, for just a moment too long.  Merlin made a strange noise, somewhere between a moan and a groan, and then Arthur pulled away.  He took his tequila, shot it, and then put the limes to his lips.  When his eyes landed back on Merlin, the other man was flushed, red in the cheeks and slightly out of breath.

 

            “What the fuck was that?” whispered Merlin.  Arthur could barely hear him over the music.

 

            “I feel like I’m in the weirdest virtual reality game ever,” said Lance, looking at them.

 

            “Right,” said Merlin.  He stood and grabbed Arthur’s hand.  “We’re going to dance.”

 

            Arthur let Merlin lead him to the dance floor.  He’d had four drinks at dinner, and two shots at the club, his head was light and everything was fuzzy around the edges.  Merlin was against him, dancing, moving his body to the music. 

 

            “Loosen up.  You used to dance all the time in uni.”

 

            “It was different,” Arthur said in Merlin’s ear.

 

            “Then pretend I’m a girl,” said Merlin, “isn’t that the point of this week anyway?”

 

            “You’re not a girl,” said Arthur, but he started to move with Merlin.  He started laughing.  “You’re not bad.”

 

            “At dancing?  No shit, mate.”

 

            They danced for a while; Gwen and Morgana joined them at one point, and then they spotted Lance dancing with that Owen guy, which made both of them laugh. Lance shrugged and kept at it until Gwen stole him away.  Lance bought them more shots, which they drank on the dancefloor.  Arthur had to steady his brain whenever Merlin grinded himself against him.  The evil glint in his eye told Arthur he knew exactly what he was doing.  This needed retaliation and Arthur stepped up his game.

 

            Merlin leaned into his neck and said in his ear, somewhat breathless, “You can’t keep doing that.  You’re making me hard.”

 

            Arthur jerked back, his heart beating fast.  Hearing those words were just too real.  Merlin’s eyes were wide, as though he realized what he had just said and what it meant. Arthur took a step back.  “I need a minute,” and then went back towards the tables.  He sat down on the bench where they’d been before, the shot glasses cleared away.  Merlin was right behind him.

 

            He sat down, too.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean – well, I meant what I said, but I’ve had a lot to drink.”

           

            “Yeah, no, it’s okay,” said Arthur. 

 

            “It’s not.  This isn’t supposed to be real and—”

 

            “I dunno what I’m feeling,” admitted Arthur.  “Something, though.  I’m scared.”

 

            “You’re drunk.”

 

            Arthur nodded.  “That too. Were you really, you know, out there?”

 

            “Hard?”

 

            This time Arthur felt his face flush.

 

            “Yeah,” said Merlin.  “I’m really fucking drunk, so my brain may just be in caveman mode, but the way you were dancing…”  He shrugged. He was heavy-lidded, which Arthur knew meant that Merlin was beyond drunk.  Then, suddenly, Merlin leaned forward as though he was going to kiss him. Arthur jerked back.  He studied Merlin’s face, the half-confused, half-hurt look in his eye.  “I thought,” said Merlin, sadness underlying somewhere in there.  “Never mind.”

 

            “Shit,” mumbled Arthur, overcome with annoyance, and kissed him.  At first, Merlin didn’t move.  Then he pressed forward, opening Arthur’s mouth with his tongue.  It was sweet, despite all the alcohol they’d both had, and somewhat chaste despite all the grinding bodies in the background.  They pulled away when Morgana flopped down on the bench next to Arthur. 

 

            “Oh, don’t mind me.”

 

            Arthur tensed.  He looked at Merlin and didn’t know what to say to the wondering look in his eyes.

 

            “I need to pee,” said Merlin, and jumped up and all but ran towards the toilets.

 

            Arthur groaned in frustration and turned to his sister.

 

            Morgana smiled.  “This is way better than spending the evening with Dad.  He left me a voicemail this afternoon wanting to take us to dinner.” She laughed.  “Whoops!”

 

            “This isn’t a game, Morgana!  I thought you were beyond all that.”

 

            “What?  Didn’t you enjoy yourself this evening?”

 

            “Shit,” said Arthur, “Dad’s going to be furious tomorrow if he thinks we ignored him.”

 

            Morgana grinned.  “I already took a picture of you and Merlin dancing and sent it to him.”

 

            “Why the fuck would you do that?” snapped Arthur.

 

            “I was honest earlier when I said he asked me about Merlin.  He’s not convinced.  He doesn’t know what’s up, but he doesn’t think Merlin is your type. He’s not buying it.”

 

            “And you?”

 

            Morgana shrugged.  “Either way, I think Merlin is good for you.  What do you think?”

 

            “I think it’s time to go home.”

______

 

            Somehow they’d made it back to Arthur’s flat.  Merlin’s first instinct was to flop down on the sofa, like he usually did when he followed Arthur home drunk, but Arthur wouldn’t let him.  They walked into Arthur’s bedroom, and after that all that Merlin remembered was taking off his shirt before passing out asleep on top of the covers.  When he woke the next morning, his head was pounding.  He found some pain killer in Arthur’s bathroom drawer and swallowed four of them before turning on the shower. 

 

            He emerged, hair still dripping but fully dressed, and found Morgana sitting at the kitchen counter, cup of tea in her hand, scrolling through emails.  The coffee maker was on, so Merlin went to grab a mug from the cabinets.

 

            “Where’s Arthur?”

 

            “Dunno.”

 

            His question was answered a moment later when the front door open and Arthur walked inside.  Merlin’s heart lodged somewhere in the back of his throat when he saw him.  He wondered if he could just pretend he blacked out the night before so they wouldn’t have to talk about anything that had happened.

 

            “Oh, good morning, brother,” said Morgana breezily.  “Where you’ve been?”

 

            “Woke up at five to go get my car from the restaurant.”

 

            “Why?  We didn’t even get home until two.  Were you still drunk?” asked Merlin.

 

            “No, not really.  Not by the time I got my car.”

 

            “You could’ve gotten it at any time.”

 

            “I didn’t want you to be late for work.  Come on.”

 

            Merlin stared at him.  “I’m hungover as shit, and you went to get your car so I wouldn’t late?”

 

            “I’m hungover, too.  Head is going to explode.  Stop looking so bloody cheery,” Arthur snapped at his sister.  “She never gets hangovers.”

 

            “It’s true,” confirmed Morgana.  “Have a good day, Merlin.” She grinned from behind her computer screen.

 

            Merlin looked at his coffee; he wasn’t ready to put it down.  Arthur sighed and walked into the kitchen.  He touched Merlin’s hips and pushed him back two steps before opening a cabinet and pulling down a metal to-go mug with a lid. He poured Merlin’s coffee into it. Merlin grabbed his computer bag from where it sat next to Morgana on top of the kitchen counter.

 

            “Come on,” Arthur said again.

 

            They left the flat, the door automatically shutting behind them.  “You didn’t have to do that,” said Merlin. “About the car, I mean.  I could’ve taken the bus or tube.”

 

            “Do you know how to get to work from here on the bus?”

 

            “Well, no.”

 

            “It’s fine.  It’s not a big deal.”

 

            They took the lift downstairs to the garage.  Arthur’s silver-sleek car was in its usual space and Merlin got into the passenger’s seat.  He could feel the awkwardness between them as Arthur started the car.  He wanted to throw up.  He couldn’t even drink his coffee.  Arthur pulled out of the parking space and towards the exit.

 

            “Are we going to talk about it?” blurted Merlin.  “I was going to pretend I didn’t remember any of it, but I remember all of it.”

 

            “I had fun at the club,” said Arthur, looking at the road ahead.

 

            “Is that it?”

 

            Arthur looked a little sad.  “I don’t … I don’t know what to say.”

 

            “Really?” cried Merlin. 

 

            “I’m sorry.”

 

            Merlin felt a mix of emotions.  Anger, annoyance, and confusion.  This was bullshit.  Plain and simple.  He looked out the window and crossed his arms.  His work was only twenty minutes from Arthur’s flat without traffic, so they arrived there quickly enough.  Merlin made to get out of the car quickly, but Arthur grabbed his elbow, stopping him.

 

            “Hey, I’m sorry.  My head is … I don’t know.”

 

            Merlin melted – _slightly_.  “Yeah.”

 

            “I’ll pick you up at six?”

 

            “You don’t have—”

 

            “Merlin.  Jesus.” Arthur shut his eyes.  “Just let me fucking pick you up.”

 

            “Okay, sure.  Six o’clock.”

 

            Merlin got out of the car and closed it behind him.  He went to the front door of his building and looked back before going inside, but Arthur had already driven away.  He sniggered to himself when he went into his small office, thinking about how here he was at work, at a rehab facility for addiction, and he had gotten shitfaced the night before and three days before that.  He went through the motions at work, in both his group and individual sessions.  After lunch, he checked his phone.  Arthur sent him a text.

 

            _My father wants you to come to dinner tonight. If you don’t want to come, I understand. Things are weird right now._

 

            “GWEN!” Merlin yelled.  He threw one of his stress-relief balls at the wall to his right.  It bounced off and he caught it.

 

            Gwen walked into Merlin’s office.  “Shhh. I swear to god.  Don’t yell. My head is going to explode.”

 

            “I need to talk.”

 

            Gwen sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of Merlin’s desk.  “Are we finally going to talk about how Arthur kissed you last night?”

 

            “Er,” said Merlin.  “Sort of.”

 

            “Great because I’ve been _dying_ to know what is going on.  Did you sleep with him?”

 

            “No!”

 

            Gwen arched an eyebrow.  “Really?”

 

            “No!” cried Merlin again.  “I don’t know what is going on.  Arthur said he’s just confused.”

 

            “He’s an idiot,” confirmed Gwen.  “It’s not hard to figure out what’s going on.”

 

            “Which is...?”

 

            Gwen narrowed her eyes.  “I’m sure you can figure that out on your own.”

 

            “Yeah, all right,” moaned Merlin, covering his face in his hands.  “When did this happen?” he said between his fingers.

 

            “Somewhere between university and yesterday.”

 

            “That’s almost ten years’ worth of ‘between.’”

 

            Gwen shrugged.  “You two have been best mates since we did that psychology project for class.  And once we all moved to the city, you started hanging out more, you see each other more often than I see you, and we work _and_ live together.  Makes sense that at some point you’d fall in love with him.”

 

            “I’m not in love with him.”

 

            “Yeah, okay.”

 

            “I’m not!”

 

            “I already said ‘okay.’”

 

            Merlin frowned.  “He kissed me last night, but didn’t want to talk about it this morning, and now he’s sent me this text asking to go to dinner with him and his father tonight, but telling me if I don’t want to, I don’t have to.”

 

            Gwen was quiet for a moment.  “Well …” she began.  “Do you?”

 

            “Do I what?”

 

            “Want to go to dinner.”

 

            “I don’t know.”

 

            “There’s three scenarios.  You can keep pretending, hoping it turns into something real.  Keep pretending, knowing it _won’t_ turn into something real.  Or stop it altogether now and save yourself some grief.”

 

            “Why would I keep pretending at this point?” asked Merlin.

 

            “I thought that would be obvious?”  Gwen smiled a little sadly.  “For a few more days of getting to be Arthur’s girlfriend.”

 

            “Fuck,” muttered Merlin.

 

            “Listen, why don’t you take the next few days off?  I’ll cover your group therapies and you can reschedule your individual ones.  You never take time off, and I have a feeling the next couple days could be really hard.”

 

            Merlin shook his head.

 

            “Just do it.  For me?”

 

            Merlin rolled his eyes and conceded.  He grabbed his phone and typed out, _dinner is fine.  see u @ 6._

 

            “This is going to be disastrous, isn’t it?”

 

            Gwen just shrugged.

 

            Merlin managed to get through the rest of his day without too much incident. He rescheduled his appointments like Gwen suggested and shut down his office at ten to six, locking the door, and making his way to the front entrance.

 

            Arthur’s car was already there, waiting for him.  He got in and put his laptop bag in the backseat.

 

            “What’s that?” he asked, motioning towards the bag in the back.

 

            “My tux.”

 

            “Ah. Where’s Morgana?”

 

            “Leon flew into town today.  They’re at his parents’ house for dinner.”

           

            “So it’s just me, you, and your father?”

 

            “Yes.”

 

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

 

            “Thank you,” said Arthur softly.  “For coming.”

 

            “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” mumbled Merlin. 

 

            Arthur reached over and touched Merlin’s thigh.  “I mean it.”

 

            Merlin stared at his hand.  This was ridiculous.  Did Arthur even know what he was doing to him? 

 

            The rest of the ride was quiet.  They ended up at the hotel where Uther was already staying.  Arthur left his car with the valet.

 

            “If you’d told me we were coming here, I would’ve dressed nicer.”

 

            “You look fine.”  Arthur walked around his car and stopped in front of Merlin.  He fixed Merlin’s collar and tucked part of his shirt back into the waist of his pants.  “Thankfully you already wear button-downs to work.”

 

            “Why are we still standing here?” asked Merlin after a prolonged pause. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

 

            “Listen.  My father can be – well – difficult is really the only appropriate word here.  You don’t have to deal with him if you don’t want to.”

 

            “I told you I’d help and I’ve come this far.  Why stop now?”

 

            “Okay.”

 

            “Let’s go.”  Merlin led him into the hotel.  The restaurant was nicer than any Merlin had been to before, with white table cloths and waiters wearing black bowties.  Uther was already seated with a glass of wine. 

 

            “You’re late.”

 

            Arthur and Merlin sat.  Arthur was right next to his father, making Merlin directly across from him.  It was a terrible position to be in, and Merlin immediately felt intimidated.

 

            “There was traffic,” said Arthur.  “Merlin doesn’t get off work until six.”

 

            “And what is it you do?” Uther asked.

 

            “I’m an addiction counselor,” Merlin answered.

 

            “What an interesting profession.  Personal experience, then?”

 

            “Father,” said Arthur between his teeth.  His tone was warning.

 

            “I’m just getting to know your, uh, what do you call him?  Boyfriend?”

 

            “Boyfriend, partner, take your pick.”

 

            “All I’m saying, it’s an interesting profession, especially given that you’re an architect.  They don’t quite match.”

 

            “We were mates before we ever finished school,” said Merlin.  “I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I finished my schooling first and moved to the city.  Arthur followed after he got his degree.  So if anything, he followed me.  And my father was an addict, so yes, I’ve had personal experience.  He’s dead, though.  Overdosed. Not something I tend to talk about when I first meet someone.”

 

            The waiter came by to take their drink order, but Merlin was still feeling the effects from last night, so he asked for a water.  Arthur did the same. 

 

            “I heard you left the military for a job heading security for some organization overseas?”

 

            “Yes,” said Uther.

 

            “Do you miss it?”

 

            “I’m not really here to talk about me,” said Uther.

 

            “I thought this dinner was so we could get to know each other,” Merlin challenged.

 

            “I heard you lived together.”

 

            “Yes,” said Merlin.  He had no idea what was coming over him, but Uther was putting him on the defensive.

 

            “Since when?”

 

            “Six months or so,” answered Arthur. 

 

            “Then why does he still have a flat in his name?”

 

            Merlin stilled.  “ _What?_   How do you know that?”

 

            “It’s not hard to find out that sort of information.  Has Arthur told you about his inheritance from his grandfather?”

 

            “Father—”

 

            Uther put up a hand to silence him.  “If he’s not married by the time he’s thirty, he loses out.  That’s the way our inheritances have been set-up for the last ten generations.  Did you know that?”

 

            “No.”

 

            “Father—”

 

            “Shut up,” said Uther.  He looked at Merlin as though daring him to look away.  “It’s weird, isn’t it?  A poor man, who still has his own lease, dating my son, who is so close to turning thirty?  Arthur wasn’t gay before he met you.”

 

            “I’m sure that’s not true,” said Merlin, actually laughing a little.  “But it does make sense as to why his mother has been so worried about whether he’s going to get married.  I thought she just wanted to know her children were happy, but now I know she always wants to make sure they get their money.”

 

            “So you can understand my concern.  I’m not sure you see anything in my son beyond his potential money.”

 

            Arthur sat up straighter as though to say something, but Merlin put a hand on his arm.

 

            “No,” said Merlin, to both Arthur and to Uther.  “This is ridiculous.  Did you grill Leon like this?”  He shook his head.  “I don’t need to know, that’s not even important.  Arthur made his money through hard work.  The flat he had before this one was crap.  His old car was crap.  He told me you had millions but wanted him to learn responsibility so you didn’t give him any handouts except to pay for his school tuition.  I respect that.  But he’s successful now on his own, without your help.  He has friends – _we_ have friends.  I see everything in him.  I saw him before he had money, and I see him now.  He woke up this morning after only getting three hours’ sleep just to make sure I wasn’t late to work.  He’s caring. He’s been my best mate for years. I wouldn’t care if he’s penniless. And, you know, the thing that _baffles_ me right now is that all Arthur has been concerned about is that you get to _know_ him this trip.  He was hoping that by being with me, you’d stop focusing so much on whether he was in a relationship, and start focusing on getting to know your own son.  How sad is that?”

 

            Uther sat there, stone-faced.

 

            “I don’t care if you like me or not, I really don’t.  I don’t need your approval of my job or my housing or whether my father was an addict.  I let a flat with our other best mate and it’s still in my name because our lease wasn’t over yet.  I don’t think that really matters.  If it doesn’t bother Arthur, it shouldn’t bother you.  And as far as making Arthur gay, maybe I made him realize he likes men as well as women, but I didn’t do anything to _turn_ him gay.  That’s ridiculous.  He is who he is, and he’s fully in charge of his own choices as far as who he dates.”

 

            “You really are going to have me believe you just love Arthur for him and not his money?  What else is left after the money?”

 

            Merlin was shocked.  “I don’t even understand how you can ask that.  If you knew him, you’d understand why I was in love with him.” 

 

            “Maybe.  But maybe my son is only with you to get his hands on his inheritance, especially now that gay marriage is legal. Twice the options.”

 

            “I highly doubt that,” said Merlin sincerely.  “If that was the case, I could think of women he’s had in the past that he could have kept much more easily than me.”

 

            “What do you have to offer.  And _don’t answer for him, Arthur_.”

 

            “That’s not for me to say,” said Merlin.  “Arthur should know how he feels.”

 

            Uther stood up.  “We’ll see. Arthur, I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner, without your ‘and guest.’”  Merlin watched him walk away.  He realized he still had his hand on Arthur’s arm.  He pulled it away.

 

            “Sorry.”

 

            “Jesus, Merlin.”

 

            Merlin widened his eyes.  “What?”

 

            “Did you mean everything you said?”

 

            “Honestly, I’m not really sure what I said – it was like word vomit, once I started talking, I couldn’t stop.  You should know this about me by now.”

 

            Arthur nodded.  “Right.”

 

            “Your father is an asshole.  I can’t believe he’d think I was only with you for the money.  He really has no idea who you are.”

 

            Arthur kissed him then.  At the table, with the entire restaurant watching.  It felt much the same as last night, his soft lips on his, but there was something behind it.  Need, maybe. Or want.  Merlin kissed him back, because how could he not?  Merlin didn’t want Arthur to pull away.

 

            “Sorry,” said Arthur, still close enough for Merlin to feel his breath against his lips.  “I don’t know where that came from.”

 

            “S’all right,” breathed Merlin, blinking.  “You can’t keep doing that, you know.”

 

            “I know.  But all those things you said.”

 

            “Yeah, well, your father’s crap, isn’t he?  I hope you don’t think any of the things he said were true.”

 

            Arthur shook his head.  “No, not really.”

 

            “You owe me dinner and I’m choosing.  I’d rather not stay here for another moment.”

 

            “You’re going to make me order you pizza, aren’t you?”

 

            “Yeah, and you can’t eat it with a fork and a knife like an alien.”

 

            “Didn’t you have that last night?”

 

            “Well, yeah, but you never want it, so I rarely get to eat it with you.”

 

            “Fine, come on, let’s go.”

______

 

            Morgana texted Arthur to tell him she was going to be out late with Leon and to not wait up for her.  They finished their pizza and watched a movie on Netflix.  They were quiet, and Arthur kept replaying everything Merlin had said to his father in his head. 

 

            “I can go back to my flat tonight, if it would make things easier,” said Merlin. “I mean, Morgana won’t be here for a while anyway, and then you can say I just went to work early tomorrow morning. I know things are already really weird.”

           

            Arthur didn’t know what to say.  He didn’t want Merlin to go, not really.  But he also didn’t know what Merlin would expect if he stayed.  He’d kissed him twice, willingly, and the second time he couldn’t even pretend it was part of this ridiculous charade they’d started.

 

            “No,” said Arthur.  “Just stay. Please.”

 

            “Okay,” said Merlin softly.  He cleaned up the plates and the pizza box, and Arthur went through his room into his closet to change out of his clothes. 

 

            He came back into his bedroom and looked at his bed.  He sat down on the edge, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He felt the bed move when Merlin sat down beside him.

 

            “I never imagined you for a boxers and t-shirt sort of bloke.  I used to imagine you slept in silk pajamas.”

 

            Arthur lowered his hands.  “Yeah? I’m surprised you don’t sleep completely starkers.”

 

            “Me? Never.”

           

            “I’m sorry things are so strange.  It’s entirely my fault.”

 

            “Not _entirely_ ,” said Merlin.  “I don’t know that I’m particularly helpful right now.”

 

            Arthur shrugged.  “You were with my father tonight.”

 

            Merlin stood and unbuttoned his shirt.  He took both it, and his undershirt off.  Arthur stared at his bare chest.  It was something he’d seen countless times before, but tonight, there was something different.  Merlin threw it across to the other side of the bed.  It landed in a pile with his other dirty clothes.  He put his hands on Arthur’s shoulders and kissed his mouth, lightly.

 

            “What was that for?”

 

            Merlin shrugged.  “Why not? Only four more days of pretending. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, yeah?” He walked around to his side of the bed and kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks and trousers.  “Just get into bed.  You’ll feel better after your hangover goes completely away.  I know my own head still kind of hurts.”

 

            Arthur turned and watched Merlin get under the covers.  He was turned on his side, his back to Arthur. 

 

            “Turn off the light,” said Merlin.

 

            Rolling his eyes, Arthur stood, turned off the light, and got into bed. He faced Merlin’s back, wanting to reach out to him, but hesitating.  There were so many things going through his brain, most of which ended in the same question:  What the fuck was happening?

 

            Merlin reached behind him and grabbed Arthur’s hand.  He pulled him close, wrapping Arthur’s arm around him. Arthur moved closer, forgetting how to breathe, his front pressed against Merlin’s back.  His hand was on Merlin’s chest, with Merlin’s hand on top of his.  His whole body was stiff.

 

            “Fucking relax,” mumbled Merlin.

 

            And then he did.  He nestled in the space between Merlin’s shoulder and neck, and breathed him in.  He wasn’t really sure what all this was, but he knew that laying here, wrapped around Merlin, was the calmest and happiest he’d felt in ages.

 

            He fell asleep quickly enough, and when he woke up hours later, he was on his back with one of Merlin’s arms and legs draped over him.  Morgana barged in only moments later.

 

            “Ugh,” she said, “you two are so cute I could vomit.  Listen, I need some help with the wedding today – hey, Merlin, shouldn’t you be at work?”

           

            “Mmm,” hummed Merlin.  “Took the rest of the week off.”

 

            “Did you really?” asked Arthur, looking down at Merlin.

 

            “Yeah,” he replied without opening his eyes.  “You asked me to, remember?”

 

            Arthur had forgotten, and he hadn’t been completely serious when he’d asked, but he was pleasantly surprised anyway that Merlin was free from work.

 

            “Morgana, go the fuck away.  I’m tired,” mumbled Merlin.  He turned over and pulled the covers over his head.  Arthur’s skin was cold from where Merlin had been laying on him.

 

            “You just want a morning shag, I get it.  But, really, my bridesmaids are all flying in at nine o’clock and I need someone to pick them up and take them to the hotel.”

 

            “Don’t you have four bridesmaids?  My car won’t fit them all.”

 

            “It will if leave me and Merlin here.”

 

            “You want me alone with them?  Are you mental?”

 

            “Probably.”

 

            “Why are you just asking me this now?  I’ll go get your bloody bridesmaids, but I’m seriously done with doing favors for this wedding.  I need a break, especially from Dad.”

 

            “I heard about dinner.  He called me.”

 

            “Oh my god,” came Merlin’s muffled voice from under the covers.  “Go away.”

 

            “Be nice or I won’t let you come with us to my hen night tomorrow night.”

 

            “I’m not a girl!” cried Merlin.  “I don’t want to go to your hen night.”

 

            “But we’re going to Lips for dinner and then to Magic Men.”

 

            Merlin peaked his head out from under the covers.  “I’ve never been to Magic Men,” he said.

 

            “What is that?” asked Arthur.

 

            “You’re so innocent, brother,” smiled Morgana.  “It’s a male strip club.”

 

            “Nope, I’ll stay here.”

 

            “But Merlin’s going!” she whined.

 

            “He can go all he wants.”

 

            “We’ll change his mind later,” said Merlin.

 

            Arthur got out of bed.  He pushed his sister out of the room.  “Let me take a shower so I can go pick up your bloody friends from the airport.”  He shut the door and locked it.  “Wow,” he said, “I should’ve made her stay in a hotel.”

 

            “I heard that!” Morgana called from the other side of the door.  “You would’ve missed me too much!”

 

            Arthur walked towards his bathroom.  He stopped to look down at Merlin, who seemed to be back asleep already.  He took a long shower and got dressed in jeans and a jumper.  He picked up his bottle of cologne and studied it.  He knew if he put it on, it would remind him of Merlin.

 

            Back in the bedroom, Merlin was still asleep on his side. Arthur kneeled down next to him and smoothed Merlin’s hair back away from his face.

 

            “What the fuck are we doing?” Arthur whispered.

 

            Merlin’s eyes fluttered opened.  “You don’t know?”

 

            Arthur shook his head.

 

            “If you don’t know, then I can’t help you.”

 

            “I’m trying to figure it out,” said Arthur.  “You need anything while I’m out?”

 

            “Yeah, cream for my coffee.”

 

            Arthur smiled and kissed the top of Merlin’s head.  “Yeah, you got it.”  He went to leave, but Merlin grabbed his hand pulled him back down. 

 

            “Kiss me one more time,” he said.  “Please?”

 

            Arthur closed his eyes and sighed.  He began to realize that he may never be able to say no to Merlin ever again.  He kissed him, softly, and then left.

 

            It took him almost three hours to get all of Morgana’s bridesmaids from the airport and back to the Four Seasons.  They were nice, but reminded him too much of the types of girls he used to date: nothing but expensive clothes, manicured nails, with extreme opinions on superficial things.  He went to the store to get Merlin’s cream and picked up a few more things he needed, included some stuff he could make for dinner.  He was determined not to go out and get drunk again; he needed to keep his head clear so he could begin to figure out exactly what was going on with him. His phone went off on the way to the car.

 

            _ur sister kidnapped me & took me to the florist.  pls help_

 

            Arthur laughed.  _She’s sneaky.  She probably told you she’d take you for coffee._

_yes there was the promise of starbucks_

 

            Arthur put the groceries in the boot of his car and headed back to his flat.

 

            _ok she says shes going to take me for espresso and then she’ll let me come back home_

 

            Something hit him square in the chest.  Back home.  Interesting that Merlin phrased it that way.  Arthur kind of liked it.  When he got to his flat, he brought his groceries upstairs and put them away. Merlin and Morgana didn’t come back for another three hours so Arthur busied himself with cleaning up all of Merlin’s discarded clothes on the floor of his bedroom.  Once they were back, Merlin helped Arthur cook dinner – spaghetti, the only thing Arthur knew how to make – and they all ate in the living room while they binged on Black Mirror.  Arthur felt drowsy, probably from several nights in a row of getting very little sleep. He fell asleep somewhere near the beginning of series three.  When he woke up, the television was off and his head had made it into Merlin’s lap. Merlin’s fingers played with his hair, but he was reading a book on his kindle.

 

            “What time is it?” asked Arthur.

 

            Merlin peered around his tablet.  “Hey.  It’s, like, one o’clock, I think.”

 

            “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

 

            “You looked peaceful.  And you’ve woken up early every day, to either get your sister from the airport, get me to work, or pick up a gaggle of bridesmaids.”

 

            “Thanks.  I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

 

            “I didn’t mind,” said Merlin.

 

            Arthur sat up and stretched.  “Morgana said tomorrow she has to pick up her dress and her shoes, so I guess me saying I was taking a break from wedding shit meant nothing.”

 

            “I went with her to the florist today, and then to the print shop to make sure the place cards were getting done properly.  She held me hostage for _hours_.”

           

            “You liked it.”

 

            “Yeah, you’re right, I did.  She’s really like a female version of you, you know.  Very nice and posh, with a touch of evil.”

 

            “Mmmm.”  Arthur stood and started towards the hallway.  “I’m going to bed.”  He paused. “Are you coming?”

 

            They were quiet as they undressed and got ready for sleep.  When they climbed under the covers, Merlin whispered, “come on,” and Arthur went to him, wrapping himself around him, and falling almost instantly back to sleep.

______

 

            Merlin had never found weddings particularly interesting, and when he saw the price tag on some of the wedding dresses in the dress shop, he nearly threw up. Going on errands with Morgana and Arthur was fairly boring, but at least he got to continue to pretend to be Arthur’s girlfriend.  He knew from his extensive background in psychology and therapy that none of what was happening was healthy, and that at the end of it his heart was going to be in a million pieces, but he still couldn’t help but keep pretending.

 

            “So, here’s the deal,” said Morgana after they’d gone to a different store to pick up her shoes, expertly dyed to match the ribbon on her dress.  “If you can take me to the hotel, we’ve already booked the bridal suite starting tonight, so I can put my dress and shoes there. And then our dinner reservations are for eight o’clock.  I suggest you take a car to the hotel and meet us at seven-thirty.  The limo is picking us up then in the front.”

 

            “I can drive us,” said Arthur.

 

            “No way,” cried Morgana.  “You have to get trashed with us!  Tomorrow is my rehearsal dinner, and then the next day I get married.  This is my last chance to go wild while I’m still single.”

 

            “Wild?  What on earth do you think is going to happen tonight?”

 

            “Nothing, I’m faithful to Leon … but we _are_ going to a strip club, and a restaurant where all the waiters are drag queens.  It’ll be amazing.  Besides, you’re more fun when you let loose.”

 

            “I can let loose.”

 

            “Brother, you’re wound kind of tight.  Don’t you think so, Merlin?”

 

            Merlin seemed to consider this.  “Sometimes. Sometimes he’s okay.”

 

            “Oh really?  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him ever fully relaxed and carefree without a drink in his hand.”

 

            “No,” disagreed Merlin.  “You just don’t know him like I do.”

 

            Arthur pulled up in front of the hotel.  “We’ll see you in a couple hours,” he said.  “Get out, you harpy.”

 

            Morgana laughed and carefully took her dress and shoes.  “Have fun.  Don’t be late.”

 

            “You’re lucky you don’t have a sister,” said Arthur.  “To think she insisted I take an entire week off from work for her nonsense.”

 

            “Oh, I don’t know.  It’s kind of nice seeing you guys together.  I get to see a different side of you.  It’s nice.  I mean, I don’t like how you are around your father, but it’s nice to see you with Morgana.”

 

            “Hmmm,” humored Arthur, “how so?”

 

            “You’re just helpful for the sake of being helpful.  I mean, you’re like that with me, but you’ve done nothing but help Morgana this week.”  He shrugged. “Just nice to see.  And I like hearing the stories she tells of how you were when you were a little kid.”

 

            “I see.”

 

            They went back to the flat where they could both shower and change. Arthur sat on the sofa and scrolled through emails on his laptop while Merlin got himself ready.  When he was done, he sat down next to him.

 

            “So,” said Merlin slowly.  “Are we still not talking about what’s happening?”

 

            Arthur set his laptop to the side.  “I don’t know,” he said miserably.  “This isn’t really what I expected when we started this.”

 

            “I know.  You’ve said that.”  Merlin took a deep breath.  “Can I try something?”

 

            “Uh, I don’t know.  What is it?”

 

            “Do you trust me?”

 

            “Absolutely not.”

 

            Merlin rolled his eyes.  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” and leaned over to kiss him.  He cradled Arthur’s head in his hand, brushing his thumb across the the back of Arthur’s jaw, just by his ear.  He pulled Arthur closer, kissing him harder, wetter, and dirtier.  Then – _finally_ – Arthur was there, too, his hands on Merlin’s hips, lightly rubbing over his shirt.

 

            Merlin needed to be closer, but he was afraid to break their contact, afraid if he did, Arthur would run away.  He carefully lifted himself up on one knee, and then brought his other leg around until he was in Arthur’s lap, one knee on either side of Arthur’s hips.  It must have sent a surge through Arthur, because now his hands were under Merlin’s shirt, touching his back, his hips, his stomach, and then his back again.  Arthur pushed his shirt up until Merlin had no choice but to break his mouth away from Arthur’s  and lift his arms.

 

            Arthur didn’t return to Merlin’s mouth, instead he kissed his neck, then his shoulder.  Merlin took in a sharp breath when Arthur nibbled at the skin near his collar bone.  It was like electricity through his veins, pooling in his groin.  He knew he was hard, and he could feel that Arthur was, too. 

 

            _Finally_ , he thought.  It felt like their whole friendship had slowly built up to this moment, and _finally_ they were here.  Kissing, touching, slowly undressing.

 

            Arthur’s black t-shirt made it to the floor somewhere near Merlin’s, and in the pause right after taking it off, he looked at Merlin, right in his eyes, before grabbing him and bringing their mouths together again.  Merlin’s fingers made their way from Arthur’s chest to his belt buckle.  He undid it and began to work on the button of his fly when –

 

            “Whoa,” said Arthur, pulling away.  He took hold of Merlin’s hands and stilled them.  “I can’t.”  He grabbed Merlin’s hips and pushed him over onto the cushion next to him.  He stood and walked around the couch.  He braced himself on the back of the sofa and breathed in deep.

 

            “What d’you mean you _can’t_?” asked Merlin, breathing fast, his palms sweating.

 

            Arthur looked up at him.  “Oh my god, are you going to cry?”

 

            “ _No_ ,” snapped Merlin defensively, but he felt it, tears welling up underneath his eyes.  He grabbed his shirt from off the floor and threw it on over his head.

 

            Arthur looked miserable.  He reached for him, hands on either side of Merlin’s face, resting his forehead against his.  Merlin’s heart continued to race.  He wondered if he might pass out.

 

            “Look, I’ve never …”

 

            “Of course you have.”

 

            “Not with another guy.”

 

            “Ah.”

 

            “So, you know, this is very – and please don’t take this the wrong way – overwhelming.”

 

            Merlin melted, and he had to swallow back tears.  “Yeah,” he said, “I know.  I was there once myself, you know.”

 

            Arthur pulled away.  “And it’s _you_ , my best mate.  You’re not supposed to be the person I spoon in bed and snog on the sofa. We’re supposed to drink beer and talk about the idiots at work and go to rugby matches or some shit.”

 

            “Right,” said Merlin, unsure of what else to say.

 

            “This was supposed to be an act.  This wasn’t supposed to _be_ anything more.  It was supposed to be easy because you already know most of my secrets, so pretending wouldn’t be hard.  And now, I can’t go five minutes without thinking of snogging you.”

 

            Merlin felt lost.  He wasn’t sure whether he should be apologetic or angry.  Was he being blamed for all of this?

 

            “I’m sorry,” said Merlin.  “This wasn’t exactly my plan when I agreed to it.  I thought I’d probably make fun of you, make it sound like you were a hopeless romantic when it came to me, embarrass you in front of your sister – all in good fun, of course – and then go back home when this was over and have everything back to normal.”

 

            “Yeah, right,” said Arthur.

 

            “Listen, I won’t do a single thing you don’t want me to.  I won’t ‘try’ anything else, I won’t kiss you.  It’s all in your hands.  If you want.”

 

            “Do you want this to be real?”

 

            Merlin felt the blood drain from his face.  How was he supposed to answer that?  Obviously, yes, yes he did, but this was Arthur, his best friend who was having a crisis trying to figure out who he was and what all of these new feelings meant.

 

            Before Merlin could answer, Arthur’s mobile went off. 

 

            “Fucking Morgana,” grumbled Arthur.  He picked it up.  “What do you want?  I don’t know, what time is it … oh, yeah, it’s later than I thought … sure, we’ll be there … yeah, yeah, both of us, I’m coming, too … no … no … _no_ … Morgana, I’m hanging up on you.”  Arthur ended the call, put his phone in his back pocket, and buttoned his jeans.  “Hand me my shirt, will you?  My sister is beckoning us.”

 

            Merlin sighed.  “Of course. I guess I’m hungry.”

 

            “Your mouth looks swollen.”

 

            “I think that’s because you bit my bottom lip.”

 

            “Did I?”

 

            “It’s okay – I liked it.”

 

            “Huh,” said Arthur, “interesting.  Anyway, let me get my shoes and we’ll go.  Can you call an uber?”

 

            Merlin sighed and shoved his feet into his canary yellow converse that had been discarded by the front door.  He guessed he was ready for the rest of the night.

______

 

            Arthur figured out that the restaurant was called Lips because of all the lip synching the drag queens did in between serving dinner.  He let his sister buy him rounds of drinks, figuring why the hell not?  The alcohol wasn’t doing him any favors, though.  He’d just fooled around with his best mate and the alcohol made him keep reliving it in small snapshots of Merlin’s mouth, his collar bone, and the dip of hip into jeans.  He wanted to reach out and touch Merlin, but he kept his hands to himself, afraid of what might happen if he felt Merlin’s bare skin under the palms of his hands.

 

            “Should we go to Magic Men, or back to Crisis?” Morgana asked.  “I’m kind of in the mood to dance.”

 

            “Oh, god,” said Arthur, “back to that hell hole?”

 

            Merlin sniggered.  “Would you rather go to a strip club and see naked men dance on stage, or would you rather go to a regular club and see half-naked men dancing all around us?”

           

            “I don’t see how either of those are appealing.”

 

            Merlin rolled his eyes.  “He’d do better dancing.  A strip club would only make him _more_ uptight.”

 

            “Great!  All shots on Arthur at the club!  Let’s go!”

 

            The limo was outside waiting for them.  Merlin told the driver where they were headed and climbed into the back after Arthur. 

 

            Arthur was barely tipsy, but already beginning to feel somewhat more relaxed than he had been earlier in his flat.  Merlin was pressed against him in the seat.  He moved his arm so it slung across the back of the seat, and across Merlin’s shoulders. Merlin settled into Arthur’s side. This felt good, thought Arthur, this wasn’t too much.  At the club, the bouncer recognized him as Merlin’s straight-boyfriend and let them in without checking their IDs.  They had shots with Morgana’s bridesmaids, and all danced together.  The rest of them were pretty well wasted, but Arthur still felt mostly coherent.

 

            Morgana went to go sit down and cool off, giggling as she dragged Arthur along with her.  They sat in the corner, watching the dance floor.

 

            “I like this place,” she said.  “Leon isn’t nearly this interesting, though, so we’ll have to come again sometime when I’m back for a visit.”

 

            Arthur’s eyes found Merlin.  He watched as another bloke came up to him and started to dance.  Fluidly, Merlin changed partners from one of the bridesmaids to this new guy.  Something nasty seared inside Arthur.  He felt it, the pangs and the annoyance.  He hadn’t staked Merlin, he was free to dance with whomever he liked, but Arthur didn’t like this feeling he had.  Jealousy, maybe.

 

            “You can go steal him from that guy, you know,” said Morgana.  “He is, after all, yours to steal, isn’t he?”

 

            “I trust him, he’s not going to do anything.”

 

            “I know jealousy when I see it.  Besides, I like Merlin.  He’s so good for you.  I think he makes you happy.”

 

            “Yeah,” agreed Arthur, “I know he does.”

 

            “Have you told him that?”

 

            “Get out of my head, Morgana.  I’m not drunk enough for this.”  But Arthur stood, and went towards the floor, weaving between the other patrons, until he got to Merlin.  He tapped Merlin on the shoulder. 

 

            Merlin turned and grinned.  “Hey!” he cried.  “You came back!”  He laughed and touched Arthur’s shoulder.

 

            “Jesus, you’re drunk.”

 

            “Yep!”

 

            “We were in the middle of dancing,” the other guy said to Arthur. 

 

            “Yeah, but I’m taking him home.  I know this side of him – he’s done.”

 

            “Sorry,” Merlin said to the guy.  “I’m his girlfriend this week.  I gotta go with him.”

 

            “Jesus, Merlin, come on, let’s go.”

 

            “Why you not as happy as me?”

 

            “I’m probably five drinks behind you – and you don’t hold your liquor well.”

 

            “Nope!” agreed Merlin happily.  “Are you mad at me?  For dancing with that bloke?”

 

            “No, I could never be mad at you.  Can I take you home?”

 

            “To your flat?”

 

            “Yes.”  Arthur steered him towards the exit.  He waved goodbye to his sister who only giggled.  He wasn’t going to bother with his phone, and instead hoped there would be cabs waiting outside the club.

 

            Merlin stopped just outside the front entrance and turned to Arthur. “Are you gonna kiss me again?”

 

            “What?  Now?”

 

            “Like you did earlier.  I felt you – you were hard.”

 

            “If I kiss you, will you shut up and get in a cab?”

 

            Merlin nodded.  Arthur sighed and kissed him.  Merlin pulled away and put his arms around Arthur, whispering in his ear, “Will you let me touch you?  I promise I won’t fuck you – that’ll come later.”

 

            “I’ll agree to whatever will get you in this cab and back home.”

 

            “S’not _my_ home.  S’yours,” slurred Merlin.  “I’d stay there forever if you asked me though.”

 

            “That’s the alcohol talking.  Come on.” Arthur hailed a cab and got Merlin inside of it.  He gave the driver his address, and Merlin fell asleep on his shoulder.  Once they were in front of his building, Arthur woke Merlin up and helped him out of the cab.  He looked a little better after his thirty-minute nap, but not by much.

 

            Merlin was quiet on the elevator ride up the stairs.  He stumbled out and Arthur caught him.  Arthur took out his phone and opened his door, Merlin went in first and was already halfway to the bedroom before Arthur had even shut the front door.

 

            This wasn’t the first time Arthur had to help Merlin take off his shoes and socks – and if he as being truthful, Merlin had had to help him do the same a time or two.  He helped Merlin take off his shirt, and began on his jeans, when Merlin stopped him.

 

            “Hey,” he said softly, “you know I like being your pretend girlfriend.  It’s not much different than what we normally do, only now I get to kiss you.  You have nice lips.”

 

            “You’re so drunk.  You won’t remember this in the morning.”

 

            “Yes, I will.  Listen. All I want is to make you happy.”

 

            “You already do make me happy.  Please let me help you with your jeans so I can get you into bed.”

 

            “Do I really make you happy?”

 

            Arthur stopped and sighed.  “Merlin, seriously.  How can you ask that?  You are always the happiest part of my day, even before you were my girlfriend.  Now will you _please_ let me – oh, god, I know that look.”

 

            Arthur jumped out of the way as Merlin bolted up and ran into the bathroom. The sounds of retching and vomit hitting toilet water echoed in the large bathroom.  Arthur went in and kneeled behind Merlin.  Once he was done, Arthur flushed the toilet for him. Merlin sat back and groaned. Arthur grabbed a towel and wiped at the corners of Merlin’s mouth. 

 

            “Think you’re done?”

 

            Merlin shook his head.  “Not yet,” and retched again.  This time he thought it was all out of his stomach. 

 

            Arthur grabbed his tooth brush and toothpaste.  “Here, you always feel better after you’ve cleaned your teeth. Get that funk out of your mouth.”

 

            Merlin brushed his teeth while still sitting on the cold tile, no shirt, jeans half-unbuttoned.  Arthur took the used toothbrush and rinsed off the leftover toothpaste.  He got a cup of water and handed it to Merlin.  He sipped some, swished around in his mouth, and then spit back into the cup.  Arthur signed and dumped the cup in the sink before helping Merlin to his feet.

 

            “Are you okay, or are you going to be sick again?”

 

            “M’okay,” mumbled Merlin.  This time he let Arthur finish undressing him and he got into bed.  Arthur pulled the covers up to his chin.  “Thanks for taking care of me.”

 

            “I always do.”

 

            “I know,” said Merlin, his eyes closed.  “Can you do me one more favor?”

 

            “Sure, what?”

 

            “Don’t break my heart.”  And then, just like that, he was asleep.  Arthur stood there, looking at him, dark fringe falling across his face, his ears sticking out from just above the blankets, mouth slightly parted as he breathed. He didn’t want to break his heart, but he also hadn’t fully realized that would even be a possibility.  Arthur wasn’t stupid; he knew that they kept calling this pretend, but it was far from it.  Something real was happening – very real, and very overwhelming.  It was simpler for Merlin, he had been out for as long as Arthur had known him.  Arthur, on the other hand, had never been with a man.  He would have been lying if he said he’d never thought about it a time or two, but thoughts and actions were two very separate things.  And then another very real thought crossed Arthur’s mind – what if Merlin broke his heart instead?

_______

 

            It was finally the day of the rehearsal dinner, which meant this whole stupid game was almost over, which meant Arthur’s father and sister would finally be _gone_ and then maybe things would stop being so fucking weird.

 

            Merlin woke up with a raging headache.  He knew he’d gotten sick the night before, but he didn’t remember leaving the club, and barely remembered getting into bed.  Arthur reassured him he didn’t say anything embarrassing, but Merlin didn’t believe him.  There was something, on the tip of his memory that he couldn’t quite grasp.

 

            Luckily, Arthur let Merlin sleep most of the day.  He kept the curtains drawn and brought him pain relievers and water. He made him a sandwich later in the afternoon, and kept the television on low so he wouldn’t bother him.  Merlin reached for his phone where Arthur had placed it on the bedside table.  He wanted to yell for Arthur, but he was afraid that would only hurt his head even more.

 

            _when r u leaving for the rehearsal dinner?_

 

            _Rehearsal starts in an hour and a half.  Dinner after that.  Do you feel like coming with me?_

_i thought i wasnt invited?_

_And let my father get the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin?_

_u're right.  that bastard.  im coming w/ u._

_Please wear that black button-down you have.  No jacket needed, but you can wear my purple tie. No yellow shoes._

_i take it back then.  im not going if i cant wear my yellow shoes_

 

            But he was already up, ready to take a shower and pretend to be a human.  It took him longer than normal to get ready, but it was going to be worth it to stick it to Arthur’s horrible father.  He dressed in black trousers and his black button-down shirt.  He grabbed Arthur’s tie and went into the living room.

 

            “You look good,” said Arthur, pausing the tv.  “Are those my trousers?”

 

            “Yeah.  Mine were too faded.  These are surprisingly long enough for me.  A little big, though – I’m skinnier than you.  So, don’t make fun, but I actually don’t know how to tie a real tie.”

 

            “You’re joking.”

 

            “When have you ever seen me in a tie?”

 

            Arthur turned and sat up on his knees on the sofa.  “Come here.”  He took the tie from Merlin and placed it around his neck.  He tied it, and adjusted the knot so it wasn’t too tight for him. He kept his hand on the purple silk and pulled Merlin forward.  “You smell like my cologne.”

 

            “Yeah,” said Merlin with a blush, “I used it again.  I lied before.  I always like smelling like you.  I’d rather smell _you_ on me, but I’ll settle for the cologne.”

 

            “Merlin,” said Arthur.

 

            “You can pretend I didn’t say that.”

 

            Arthur dropped the tie.  “Let’s go.”

 

            “I thought you had to pick your mum up from the airport today.”

 

            “My father texted me and told me not to bother.”

 

            “I really hate that guy.” 

 

            Arthur grabbed his wallet and his keys.  He shoved his cell phone in his pocket and opened the front door for Merlin. They made their way to the elevator and down to the garage.  Arthur drove straight to the church, a beautiful old Catholic cathedral.  It was a quiet ride, but thankfully not particularly awkward.  Once they were there, they both stood in the car park, looking up at the church. 

 

            “I have a feeling this isn’t going to be any fun,” said Arthur.  “This is your final chance to back out.”

 

            “Never.”

 

            Arthur took a deep breath.  “Let’s do this, then.”

 

            Merlin took his hand.  Arthur entwined their fingers.

 

            They walked up the church steps and through the large wooden doors.  Merlin immediately recognized Morgana’s bridesmaids and he assumed two of the other blokes standing there talking to them were part of the groomsmen.  He didn’t see Arthur’s father or Morgana, but Arthur clearly recognized someone through the narthex, sitting inside the church. 

 

            “Come on.”  Arthur pulled Merlin through the small crowd of laughing girls towards the inside of the church.  “Mum?”

 

            A middle-aged woman turned around.  She had a purple scarf over her head, but she looked like Arthur – same nose, same eyes.  She smiled and stood.  Arthur dropped Merlin’s hand to hug her.

 

            “When did your plane get in?”

 

            “Only an hour ago.  We came straight here from the airport.  I haven’t even seen your sister yet.”

 

            “I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up—”

 

            “Your father told me.”  She glanced at Merlin.  “Who’s this?”

 

            “Oh, sorry, this is Merlin,” introduced Arthur.  “Merlin, this is my mum, Ygraine.”

 

            “It’s nice to meet you,” said Merlin.  “Arthur talks about you a lot.”

 

            “I’m sure that’s not true, but I appreciate the lie,” said Ygraine.  “I’ve actually heard about you before, though.”

 

            “ _Really?_ ” Merlin asked, shocked.  “There’s no way.”

 

            “Yes.  Not purposefully, but I’d call, see how my son was doing, and he’d tell me he was about to meet you for dinner, or to go to a play, or pick you up from work. Your name was somewhere in almost every conversation we had.  Honestly, I did always wonder if there was something else going on, since he mentioned you almost every time we spoke.  I can hardly remember the names of his other friends.”

 

            Surprisingly, Arthur didn’t look embarrassed.  He shrugged. 

 

            “How are you feeling?” asked Arthur.

 

            “I’m fine.  Tired, but fine.  Very happy to be here.  I have to leave early Sunday, though.  Best not to be too far away from my doctors.  Maybe Sunday morning before I leave we can have breakfast.  The big question is how are _you_ , though?”

 

            “Me? I’m fine.”

 

            Ygraine cupped her son’s face in her hands.  “I hope you are.  I hope your father didn’t—”

 

            “He didn’t do anything.  Just confirmed why I only answer the phone when you call and not him.  Where is he anyway?”

 

            “He’s somewhere around here.  Why don’t you go wait with the other groomsmen?  The rehearsal is about to start.  Merlin can sit with me.”

 

            “I don’t—” began Arthur.

 

            “Your father won’t say anything rude in front of me.  That’s not his style.  I’ll handle him.”  Ygraine sat back down in the last pew.  She scooted over enough for Merlin to sit next to her.  “I know you already.  This bloke and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

 

            “Hey, I like your mum,” said Merlin with a grin.

 

            Arthur looked slightly skeptical, but just nodded.  “All right.  I’ll find you after this thing is over and we’ll go to the hotel.”  He hesitated.

 

            “You okay?”

 

            “Yeah, I’m fine … I’ll see you soon.”

______

 

            Uther ignored Arthur before and during the rehearsal, which honestly was fine with Arthur.  He didn’t need a big fight to ruin the beginnings of his sister’s wedding.  He kissed his mother on the cheek and promised to talk to her during dinner, and then grabbed Merlin so they could make a quick escape and avoid his father.

 

            “Your mother was hilarious,” said Merlin.  “I had no idea you were a fat baby!  She said she could hardly hold you when you cried because you were all rolls.”

 

            “I was not!”

 

            “She showed me pictures.  Apparently Morgana uploaded the most embarrassing pictures of you onto her phone and she’s just been waiting for you to have a girlfriend to show them to.”

 

            “We’ve got to stop calling you my girlfriend.  You’re very much, _not_ a girl.”

 

            “Yeah, well, I’m not your boyfriend either, so I dunno what you want to call me instead.”

 

            The words hit Arthur hard, because Merlin was right; he was not Arthur’s anything.

 

            “Right,” said Arthur uncomfortably.  He opened the door to leave the church and stopped dead in his tracks.  Leaning against his car was Uther.  “What the fuck?”

 

            “No escaping him now,” said Merlin.  He took Arthur’s hand.  “Come on, I’ll go with you.”

 

            “No,” said Arthur.  “I should probably do this on my own.  No need for you to just get stuck in the middle.  That already happened the other night at dinner, no need for it to happen again.”

 

            “If you’re sure.”

 

            Arthur nodded and disentangled himself from Merlin’s grip.  He walked down the church steps and through the car park to his car.  He stopped a few feet in front of his father.  He didn’t offer him a greeting, just stood there, waiting to hear whatever it was Uther wanted to say.

 

            “I see you brought your – what do you call him?  Merlin?”

 

            “Yes.  He’s coming to the rehearsal dinner with me.  Morgana invited him.”

 

            “No, Morgana invited a girl named Marilyn.”

 

            “Are we going to do this again?  I thought we went through this already.”

 

            “Your mother seems to think Merlin has been around for a while.”

 

            “ _He has_ ,” gritted Arthur.  “You know, Dad, what bothers me more than anything? It really has nothing to do with Merlin’s gender.  It’s that you are so convinced that I have nothing to offer outside of the money I make. You can like Merlin or hate him, it doesn’t really matter to me, because at the end of the day, he’ll be there for me, and you won’t.”

 

            “You certainly never spoke to me so disrespectfully until you started up with him.”

 

            “Listen, Dad—”

 

            “No,” said Uther, holding up a hand.  “I’ve always been hard on you because you messed around with the worst kind of women.  You never once chose someone you could bring home for Christmas.  I doubt you ever had a real conversation with any of them other than where they wanted to go to dinner or what color knickers they weren’t wearing.  So then imagine my absolute dismay when you come to me with not only someone you claim to be in a real, actual relationship with, but someone with a completely different set of pronouns than we’ve ever discussed before.  Surely you must see how that looks to me.”

 

            Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it.  He had no idea what to say.

 

            “How should I have responded?” asked Uther.

 

            “Well, you didn’t have to be an asshole.”

           

            “Why not?  You gave me zero indication that he was anything other than your latest plaything, not to mention, both your sister and I were under the impression you were bringing a ‘Marilyn’ to the wedding.”

 

            “But Mum’s heard me talk about him for years.”

 

            “Your mother has, but I have not.  We aren’t close and we probably never will be.  When your mother dies, I’m sure your trips home will become even less frequent than they already are.  I don’t want you to waste your life with someone irrelevant.”

 

            “Merlin isn’t irrelevant.  What the hell, Dad?”

 

            “How should I know that?”

 

            “Well … shit.  I still think you were wrong to be so horrible at dinner, but I guess I’ll give you that it’s not as though I ever gave you any reason to take my relationships seriously.”

 

            “Perhaps,” agreed Uther, which was as close to an apology as Arthur would ever get.  “I’ll keep my thoughts on Merlin to myself from now on, and we’ll see if you bring him for Christmas.  You have eight months to prove me wrong.”

 

            Arthur nodded.  “Okay.”

 

            “I’ll see you at the hotel.”

 

            Merlin started towards him as soon as Uther began to make his exit.  Arthur felt strange.  This was perhaps the most honest conversation he’d ever had with his father.

 

            “How was it?  You didn’t kill each other and you didn’t yell, so it couldn’t have been too terrible.”

 

            “It was – weird,” said Arthur.  “He’s still an asshole, but he pretty much indicated we should both go to the dinner.”

 

            “Well that’s progress.  Maybe this charade did some good after all.”

 

            “Yeah, maybe.”  Arthur took both of Merlin’s hands in his.  “You know what tie you’re wearing, yeah?”

 

            “The one I gave you for your first interview at your firm.”

 

            “Good memory.”

 

            Merlin kissed him then. Arthur took in a sharp breath.  They’d done a lot of this – the kissing.  It was like they were fifteen again, but Arthur kind of liked it, the urgency, the butterflies.  And then there was the nagging worry in the back of Arthur’s mind, because when the time comes to pull away, it will be Merlin on the other side of this kiss, his best friend.  His best _male_ friend.  But, then those thoughts were pushed aside when Merlin grabbed his bicep with one hand, the back of his neck with the other, and Arthur’s own hands found their way down to Merlin’s hips. 

 

            “We should just skip dinner,” Arthur suggested against Merlin’s mouth.

 

            “Ugh, you can’t say shit like that.  You know that’s not an option.” 

 

            “I’m afraid if we don’t do something now, we may never do anything.”

 

            “It’s _me_ … you don’t have to be scared with me.  Let’s go to dinner, and we can dip out early.”

 

            Arthur nodded.  They got into the car and drove to the hotel.  Dinner was served in the same restaurant where they had met Uther earlier in the week. Everyone from the wedding party, their dates, and both sets of parents were there.  Morgana’s happiness radiated off her and she had a hard time staying seated. She kept wanting to get up and go to everyone around the table, talk to them, hug them, and thank them for being there.

 

            Merlin put his hand over his wine glass when the waiter came by to fill it. “Oh, no thanks.  Just water.”  To Arthur he whispered, “I don’t think I’ll be drinking for a long while.  Last night did me in.”

 

            Arthur laughed and agreed, “You were probably the most trashed I have ever seen you.”

 

            “Lovely.”

 

            He curled his hand around the inside of Merlin’s knee and kept it there.  The waiters brought out cheese plates and bread. Merlin melted into his side, wrapping his left arm around Arthur’s right, as though holding him into place. 

 

            “I’m so glad you came tonight, Merlin,” Morgana gushed, giving them both a hug from behind.  “I like your tie.”

 

            “Thank you for inviting me.”

 

            “Thank _you_ for not being a shrew named Marilyn.”

 

            “Ha ha,” said Arthur.

 

            “Can you believe this is Arthur’s girlfriend?” Morgana asked one of her bridesmaids who was sitting directly across the table from him.

 

            “I remember you from primary school.  You were quite the ladies’ man back then, even at seven.”

 

            “Girls think I’m fit, it’s a curse.” 

 

            Merlin rolled his eyes.

 

            “Do you remember me?  Morgause.”

 

            “Vaguely.”

 

            “Since your sister brought it up, I am curious – when did this happen?”  She motioned between Arthur and Merlin.

 

            “Last Sunday,” said Merlin.  “We were bored.  Thought we’d have a bit of fun.”

 

            Morgause laughed.  “Yeah, right. Well, you’re good at keeping secrets, then.  Morgana had no idea.  Probably would help if you did Facebook or Instagram and then we could all keep up with your secrets.”

 

            “Speaking of,” said Merlin, “where’s your phone?  I left mine in your car and we should take a selfie to mark this momentous occasion.”

 

            “I’ve never taken a selfie in my life.”

 

            “I’m aware.  You can learn now.  It’s easy. Oh, Christ, just give me the phone. Smile.”

 

            Arthur smiled.  He grabbed the phone from Merlin and looked at the picture.  “Huh, I never realized how crooked my teeth were.”

 

            “They look fine.  Text me that picture, will you?  I like it. I should take more photos of you. I don’t think I have any.”

 

            “Really?” said Arthur, surprised.  “I have a lot of you.  And Gwen and Lance, but you, too.”

 

            Merlin grabbed the phone.  “Do you really?” 

 

            Arthur snatched it back.  “I don’t think so.”

 

            Merlin narrowed his eyes.  “We’ll see.”

 

            They sampled the cheese plate, ate their entrees, made small talk with Morgana and Leon’s friends, and decided to skip dessert.  Arthur congratulated Morgana and told her to call him if she needed anything tomorrow.  He said goodbye to his parents; his mother gave him a warm hug, his father nodded his farewell.  Arthur gave the valet his ticket and they wanted for the car.  Something hung between them in the air.  A mixture of excitement and apprehension.  This could be the turning point for whatever was happening with them.

 

            Arthur pulled the car away from the hotel, turning down the street towards his flat.  At the first red light he stopped at, Merlin pulled him by the tie and kissed him. The car behind him had to honk before they parted, and Arthur had to start driving again, but Merlin’s hands were undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. 

 

            “Always with the undershirts,” groaned Merlin, and he tugged both it and the button-down out of the waistband of Arthur’s trousers. 

 

            “You’re making it hard to drive,” said Arthur.

 

            “That’s the whole point.” 

 

            He let Merlin kiss him again at the next red light.  It took them twenty minutes to get back to the parking garage. Arthur had barely gotten the car locked before Merlin grabbed him and pulled him towards the lifts.  As soon as he pressed “up,” he pushed Arthur against the wall, his mouth at Arthur’s neck, a leg in between Arthur’s thighs.

 

            The elevator dinged and they got inside.  Arthur went to kiss Merlin again, but Merlin held out his hand against Arthur’s chest.

 

            “Tell me what you’re expecting from this.”

 

            “What?”

 

            “I mean … are you wanting to get laid?  Or are we just fooling around?  I don’t want to do something to freak you out – because I know a thing or two about gay sex.”

 

            “I don’t think I’ve thought it out that far.”

 

            “Have you thought about it?  At all? Because I may kiss just like all the girls you’ve kissed before, but once you take off all my clothes, I’m going to end up looking just like you.”

 

            The elevator doors opened.  Arthur got out first.

 

            “I know,” he said.

 

            “Do you?” said Merlin, stopping in front of Arthur’s door.  “Because when I think of this with you, I think about touching you, your cock in my mouth, and then me, inside you.  And then I think of you, touching me, your mouth on me.”

 

            “Um, me inside you?” supplied Arthur.

 

            “Eh,” said Merlin with a shrug, “not so much.”

 

            “Wait, really?”

 

            “I think when you’re ready, you’d like it best.”

 

            “Fascinating.”

 

            Merlin shrugged again.  “Will you open your door?  Your neighbors are going to think I’m a predator if I keep talking about this out in the corridor.”

 

            “Right,” said Arthur, and opened the door with his phone.  He stood there, looking at Merlin.  “Well,” he began slowly, “I’ve thought about most of those things.”

 

            “And you’re prepared for all of me?  Flat chest and dangly bits?”

 

            “Yes.  I think so.”

 

            Merlin finished unbuttoning Arthur’s shirt.  He pushed it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind him.  He grabbed the hem of Arthur’s undershirt and lift that above his head, discarding that as well.  Then he reached for his belt, undid the buckle and pulled it through the loops.

 

            Arthur kicked off his shoes and walked past Merlin down the hallway to his bedroom. “Come on,” he said, “leave those clothes behind.”

 

            Once in his room, Merlin pushed him backwards onto the bed and climbed on top of him.  He sat up, taking off his tie, his shirt, his belt.  He started to undo the button of his trousers, but Arthur stopped him. There was a slight nervous shake to his hands, but he undid the button, pulled down the zipper.  He paused, just for a moment, before sliding both hands across Merlin’s hips and under his pants.  He slowly pushed them down. 

 

            Merlin took a deep breath and finished taking them off, getting off Arthur, and standing at the end of the bed.  Arthur looked at him, slender limbs, flat chest, all elbows and hips and knees.  Merlin was almost completely hard, which was Arthur knew had to do with _him_ and what they were on the verge of doing.  He nodded and reached for Merlin, wanting to kiss him again.  Seeing him like this wasn’t nearly as scary as he thought it might be.  Soon they were a tangle of limbs and wet kisses, hands running across exposed skin. 

 

            Fingers worked quickly on Arthur’s pants and Merlin asked him, “are you sure,” before completely undressing him.  There was that overwhelming feeling again as Merlin began touching Arthur, stroking him softly.  Surely his chest would explode—

 

            “Why’d you stop?”

 

            “Someone is knocking at your door.”

 

            “What?  No they’re not.”  Arthur listened.  “What the fuck.”

 

            “Just get rid of them.”

 

            Arthur could scream.  “What the _fuck_ ,” he snapped again.  He pushed Merlin off him and got up.  He pulled his trousers back on, not bothering to button them, and stormed to the door.  He opened it up, feeling overwhelmingly annoyed.

 

            “Ah,” he said.  “Shit.”

 

            “Is that any way to greet your mother?  Morgana gave me your address.  I wanted to see what your flat looked like.”

 

            “Hello, Mum.  Oh, and Dad. What a delight.”  Arthur moved out of the way so his parents could both come inside.  His father had a distasteful look on his face, and when Arthur looked at what his father was glaring at, he realized it was his discarded shirt.  He grabbed it and threw it over his shoulders, not bothering to button it, but he did manage to fix his fly.

 

            “Obviously we interrupted you,” his mother said.  “I’m sorry.”

 

            “Yeah, it’s fine,” lied Arthur.

 

            “Did you enjoy dinner?  Where’s Merlin?”

 

            “Hopefully hearing your voice and getting dressed as to not make this any more embarrassing than it already is.”

 

            “You have wine?”

 

            “Darling,” said Uther, “you shouldn’t be drinking with the medication you’re taking.”

 

            “Oh, one glass won’t kill me.”

 

            “I don’t really drink wine,” admitted Arthur.  “But if you want some barrel-aged whisky, then I have that by the case.”

 

            “Great,” his mother said.  “Then let’s drink to new beginnings for all of us.  Go get Merlin.”

 

            Arthur shook his head.  No way was this happening right now.  “Sure thing, Mum.  Sure thing.”

______

 

            Even though Merlin had sworn to no more alcohol, he toasted with Arthur’s parents and drank some of Arthur’s hundred-dollar whisky.  He couldn’t stand much of it, and he tried to stay in good spirits, but all he really wanted Arthur’s parents to do was leave so he could go back to enjoying Arthur’s body.  What a fucking tease.  By the time they were alone again, they were tired, and the moment had passed.  They snogged fairly heavily before falling asleep, Arthur wound tightly around him. 

 

            The next morning was busy.  Morgana called Arthur no less than four times before ten o’clock, Gwen tried calling on her way out of the city on an overnight trip with Lance, and twice Merlin caught Arthur staring at him like he wanted to pounce him.  Arthur lent Merlin a jacket and tie, but he had to wear a gray tux with a blue tie. 

 

            “You look,” began Merlin.

 

            Arthur fixed his tie in the bathroom mirror.

 

            “You look nice,” he finished.

 

            “Thanks, I think.  Are you okay?”

 

            Merlin nodded.  “Yeah. Just not used to seeing you dressed up. It’s very fitting.  You’re always so posh and put together – this is just next level stuff.”

 

            “Well, don’t expect me to get into another tux any time soon unless Lance gets married.  But you’d probably be up there with me.”

 

            “Always a bridesmaid,” said Merlin.

 

            They had to get to the church over an hour before the ceremony started. Merlin sat in the back of the church, on the last pew.  He texted Gwen and apologize for missing her call.  He scrolled through Instagram and liked all the photos Morgana posted of getting ready for her wedding.  Arthur came and sat next to him, arm around his shoulders.

 

            “I shouldn’t have left my phone in the car,” he said, “but I didn’t want to ruin the silhouette by having it in my pocket.  Waiting is boring.”

 

            “You’re used to people entertaining you, aren’t you?”

 

            “Yeah,” said Arthur.  “Actually, I’ll be right back.”  Arthur disappeared and came back a few minutes later with his phone in his hand. “Will you download that Instant app?”

 

            “Oh my god, Instagram?  Jesus, Arthur.”  Merlin took the phone from him, unlocked it, and downloaded the app.  “Here, you need an email address and to think of a username.”

 

            “I can’t just use Arthur Pendragon?”

 

            “You can if you want to.”

 

            “What’s your username?”

 

            “MerlinsAddiction.”

 

            “Seriously?”

 

            “All I post is food.  Clearly I have a problem.”

 

            Arthur went through the steps to set everything up.  “How do I post?”

 

            “Press that plus sign, and choose a picture.  But you have to find people to follow.  Then their posts will show up in your feed.”

 

            “I’m already kind of hating this,” said Arthur.  Merlin watched him look through the photos on his phone.  He picked the one from the night before, sitting at Morgana’s rehearsal dinner.

 

            “You need to choose a hashtag,” said Merlin softly. 

 

            “Like what?”

 

            “Like hashtag-rehearsal-dinner or hashtag-my-sister-is-a-harpy or hashtag-dinner-with-my-girlfriend.”

 

            Arthur snorted.  “Ridiculous, but okay.  Do I always have to post with hashtags?  Will you set it up for me to follow whoever I need to follow?”

 

            “Um, sure.”  Merlin took the phone.  

 

            Arthur put his arm back around his shoulders.  “You sure you’re okay?”

 

            “Yep, of course.  Weird seeing your first post a picture of the two of us.”

 

            “Why’s it weird?  Don’t you have pics of just us on your profile?”

 

            “Well, yeah, but.”

 

            “But what?”

 

            “Nothing, never mind.  Hey, Leon is beckoning to you.”

 

            Arthur groaned.  “I guess it means it’s show time?  I know there will be pictures after the ceremony.  So wait here and I’ll come find you when I’m done.  Hold my phone, will you?”  Arthur kissed the top of his head before dashing off. 

 

            Merlin didn’t mind sitting alone.  The ceremony was lovely, classy.  Instead of crying, Morgana couldn’t stop smiling.  It was probably the happiest wedding Merlin had ever been to.  He’d forgotten how long Catholic weddings were, but he didn’t mind too much.  It gave him more time to steal looks at Arthur without him knowing.  A week ago, Merlin thought this was going to be easy. He knew he fancied Arthur, and it was a testament to how dim Arthur was about these things that he didn’t know this either.  He’d fancied him for a while, for at least the past year if not longer.  And they’d grown closer.  Arthur hadn’t gone on a date in months and spent almost all of his free time with Merlin.  But Merlin didn’t really know what that meant – if anything.  And the last few days had only made things more confusing.  Arthur clearly acted as though he wanted him, but what would happen tomorrow when the wedding was over and life was supposed to go back to normal?

 

            A limo took the rest of the bridal party to the hotel, but Arthur and Merlin drove in Arthur’s car.  There were cocktails first, but Merlin opted for soda.  They ate canapes and stood next to each other, Arthur telling him all the dirty details about his relatives that he hadn’t seen in ten years and probably would never see again.  Arthur kept touching him, a hand on the small of his back, or a finger curled through a belt loop.  It all made Merlin dizzy. 

 

            When they finally sat for dinner, champagne had already been poured at each place setting.  Merlin took the glass and sipped it.

 

            “Morgana said nothing but champagne would be served during dinner.  She’s mental.”

 

            Dinner was served, toasts were made.  Morgana and Leon had their first dance, and then she danced with Uther.  Arthur watched them, hand on Merlin’s thigh, until it was over.  One by one, the rest of the guests got up to dance, but they continued to sit. Arthur’s thumb traced circles on the top of Merlin’s leg.  Morgana came by and sat down next to them.

           

            “You should dance!” she cried.

 

            “I’ve danced enough this past week,” said Arthur.

 

            “But Merlin loves dancing, don’t you?  And you love Merlin!  So, you should come join us.”

 

            “Why don’t you dance with him?” offered Arthur.  “It’ll be fun.”

 

            “Oh, yes!” cried Morgana.  She pulled Merlin to his feet.  “Let’s go!” 

 

            Merlin couldn’t help but smile; Morgana was positively ecstatic.  He let her lead him to the dance floor, but when he turned around to look back at Arthur, he had gone.  He looked around the ballroom for a moment before turning his attention back to Morgana.  He let her take the lead and they danced for three songs before Arthur came back.

 

            “Can I steal him away?”

 

            “Of course!”

 

            Arthur kissed his sister on her cheek.  “Congratulations, you harpy,” he said, and she smiled even wider.  To Merlin he said, “Come on.”

 

            “Where are we going?”

 

            Arthur took his hand and led him out of the ballroom.  He flashed a keycard.  “Upstairs.”

 

            “No shit?” said Merlin, impressed. 

 

            They took the elevator up to the twelfth floor.  Arthur got out first and walked down the corridor until he found the right room.  He used the keycard and opened the door.  He raised his hand, indicating Merlin should go in first.  It was a lush room, definitely fancier than anything Merlin had ever stayed in.

 

            “I’ve never been in one of the regular rooms,” said Arthur, looking around. “It’s not too bad.”

 

            Merlin blinked slowly.  “I’m sorry, the regular rooms?”

 

            “When we’d go on holiday anywhere, my father would always get a suite at the Four Seasons.”

 

            “How nice it must be to be king.”

 

            Arthur stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.  “So,” he said, “this is weird.  I don’t really know what to do.”

 

            Merlin sighed.  A warm feeling spread across his chest and down his limbs.  Arthur was usually so confident, often carried himself with an air of arrogance. Now, he looked vulnerable, almost small. He walked up to him, wanting to calm him.

 

            He was going to say something, but the way Arthur looked at him – hungry and wanting – he couldn’t form any words.  Instead, he undid Arthur’s tie and unbuttoned his shirt.

 

            “We’ll start with this,” he said, and kissed Arthur’s neck.  He pulled the tuxedo shirt out of the waistband of Arthur’s trousers and pushed it off his shoulders.  His undershirt went next, and Merlin kissed his collar bone, back up his neck, and then to his jaw.  Arthur’s hands were on his arms, fingers digging into his skin, as though needing Merlin to steady him.  He kissed Arthur’s mouth next, feeling himself harden as soon as Arthur opened his mouth and lightly bit Merlin’s bottom lip.

 

            Merlin took a step back and kneeled down.  He untied both of Arthur’s shoes and slipped them off his feet.  Socks went next, and then Merlin slid his hands up Arthur’s legs to his belt.  He undid it, then Arthur’s fly, and then slowly pulled both his trousers and boxers down.  He lifted Arthur’s legs, one by one, to get him completely free of the rest of his clothes. This was more intimate than they’d been then night before.  He looked up and met Arthur’s gaze.

 

            “…Merlin,” said Arthur.

 

            And then Merlin took Arthur in his mouth.  One of his hands held tightly around Arthur’s hips, the other held him in place as Merlin made love to him with his lips and tongue.  He felt Arthur’s fingers in his hair.  He wished he could see Arthur’s face, but he knew Arthur was enjoying this by the way his hips subtly moved back and forth, fucking his mouth. 

 

            “Whoa!” cried Merlin, as Arthur suddenly pulled away.

 

            “Sorry,” he breathed.  “Didn’t want to, you know … come.  Yet.”

 

            Merlin smirked.  “I’ve been told I’m pretty good at that.”

 

            “Uh huh,” Arthur confirmed.  He pulled Merlin up until they were face to face again.  He walked backwards until the back of his knees met the bed.  He sat down, and then grabbed the front of Merlin’s shirt and tugged him forward. 

 

            Merlin smiled around Arthur’s lips, thinking about how Arthur was kissing him only moments after he’d been inside Merlin’s mouth.

 

            “Will you take these off?”

 

            “Hmm?”  Merlin looked down; he was still completely clothed.  “Ha, yeah, of course.”  He took everything off while Arthur pulled the covers of the bed back.  He watched as Arthur lay down on the sheets and then reached for him.  Merlin came to him, seamlessly, their mouths together, legs tangled, hands on bare skin. He wanted to explore every inch of Arthur, wanted to kiss the inside of his elbow, the sharp bone of his hip.  And so he did.

 

            Arthur’s hand cupped his face and he reached for it, held it, and then kissed his open palm.  He pushed against him so he would lay back, and kissed the soft skin just below the bend of his elbow.  He lips mapped out the rest of Arthur’s arm, his chest, his stomach.  He committed each ab to memory, kissed each freckle, loved each blemish.  He nibbled at the inside of Arthur’s thigh before taking him in his mouth again – but this time only for a moment, reminding him of what it felt like.

 

            “Merlin.”

 

            He said it like a moan, like the name itself turned him on.

 

            Merlin brought himself back up so he and Arthur were face to face again. Arthur rubbed his finger along the bottom pout of his mouth and then cupped his check again.  Merlin thought he was going to kiss him again, but Arthur just looked at him.

 

            “Is this how you always are?” he asked.

 

            “What do you mean?”

 

            “This intense.”

 

            “I don’t want to forget any of this,” admitted Merlin. “In case it never happens again.”

 

            Arthur didn’t say anything, but he moved his hand from his cheek and let his fingers dance over Merlin’s skin.  His hand settled between Merlin’s legs, touching him almost too lightly, like he was afraid Merlin might break.

 

            “You look …” began Arthur in between breaths, “amazing … right now.”

 

            Merlin’s eyes slammed shut as Arthur kept stroking him.  “Why?”

 

            “All turned on and ready to come.”

 

            “Fuck, Arthur.”  His lips hovered over Arthur’s mouth.  “This is better than I imagined.”

 

            “You imagined it a lot?”

 

            “You’ve no idea.”

 

            Arthur grinned.

 

            “Do you trust me?” asked Merlin.

 

            Arthur’s grin faltered, but he nodded.  Merlin stilled Arthur’s hand and got up from the bed.  He picked up his trousers off the floor and grabbed a condom out of his wallet and a travel-size bottle of lube from the pocket.

 

            “Did you seriously take that to my sister’s wedding?”

 

            Merlin laughed as he climbed back into bed.  “Sort of.  I put them in my pocket this morning.  After last night – well – I wanted to be prepared.  I kind of forgot they were there until you flashed me that keycard.”

 

            The look in Arthur’s eyes was questioning, uncertain.  Merlin kissed him softly.

 

            “You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

 

            Arthur nodded, and Merlin turned him until he was laying on his side.  Merlin curled himself along Arthur’s back and placed kisses across his shoulder.  He wet his fingers and slowly started working to open Arthur up.

 

            “Don’t do anything,” Merlin said into Arthur’s ear.  “Don’t clench, don’t push, just relax.”  He could feel Arthur breathing faster, so he slowed himself down. “Hey.  Shhh.”

 

            And then Arthur did relax, enough for Merlin to open him up, one – two – three fingers. 

 

            “Can I keep going?” asked Merlin.

 

            Arthur turned his head just enough to look at Merlin – and he did; it looked as though his eyes were searching for something, asking a question that Merlin wasn’t sure he had the answer to.

 

            “I love you,” said Merlin, and he meant it, “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

 

            “Okay,” said Arthur, “keep going.”

 

            Merlin opened the condom and put it on.  He used more lube to make it as easy as possible for Arthur.  This was a huge step, and he wanted to make sure each time he rocked his hips, pushed inside him, grasped his hip, bit down on his shoulder, stroked him, kissed him, was an act of lovemaking.  He had to slow down twice to tell Arthur to relax, and then he almost completely stilled as he stroked Arthur until he came.  He quickened as soon as Arthur was done so that he could come, too.

 

            He didn’t pull out immediately.  He kissed Arthur’s shoulders and neck, reaching around to guide Arthur’s mouth to his.

 

            “I’ll be right back,” said Merlin.  He went into the bathroom, discarded his condom, and grabbed a towel.  He helped clean up the wet spots up off the bed and then settled back down next to Arthur.

 

            “Are you always on top?” asked Arthur, turning over so he was on his back again.

 

            Merlin laughed.  He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Arthur.  “Yeah, usually.”

 

            “Fascinating.”

 

            “Really?  Why’s that?”

 

            “You’re just so …”

 

            “You can say it.  It won’t hurt my feelings.”

 

            Arthur hesitated.

 

            “I don’t look like I’d be on top?  I’m a skinny kid who usually just does whatever you say?”

           

            “Basically,” confirmed Arthur.  “Is it always like that?”

 

            “What, the sex?  No, the first time is always kind of weird.  But it gets exponentially better over time.  Did you hate it?”

 

            “No. But I’m not sure I really loved it either.”

 

            “That’s fair.”  Merlin ran his fingers through Arthur’s hair.  “Thanks for trusting me.”

 

            “You’re my best friend.”

 

            Merlin bent down and kissed him, feeling relieved when Arthur kissed him back.

 

            “Do you want to go back to the party?” asked Merlin.  “I’m sure it’s still going on.”

 

            “I’d rather stay here.”

 

            “I’m kind of hungry, though.”

 

            “Order room service.  There’s a menu on the desk.”

 

            “Really?”  Merlin jumped up and grabbed the menu.  He fluffed one of the pillows and sat up in bed against it.  Arthur sat up next to him and looked over his shoulder.

 

            “Order a bottle of champagne with whatever you get.”

 

            Merlin ordered a cheese platter, a plate of chips, and a two-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne.  They turned on the tv and only put on boxers when the food and drink came.  They ate in bed and drank the entire bottle.  In between eating and drinking, they kissed, and touched, and discarded their clothes again.  Merlin made Arthur come again, this time with his mouth, and Arthur reciprocated, although with slightly less finesse, but equal amounts of success.

 

            They fell asleep in the hotel room, Arthur wrapped around Merlin as though he never wanted to let him go.

______

 

            The next morning Arthur woke up to the sun hitting his face.  He grabbed his phone from the bedside table to see what time it was.  He had three missed phone calls and twelve missed texts.

 

            The ones from Morgana were a varying range of inappropriate and annoyed.  _You disappeared, where the fuck are you? … Did you really leave to go fuck your boyfriend? Cant you do that at home? … OK seriously the reception is almost over and I want to say goodbye! … You suck. My plane leaves at 6am so I wont see you before I go.  … I love you anyway, you giant queen._

 

            The rest were from his mother, asking about breakfast, and then asking if Arthur would take her to the airport. 

 

            “Shit!” Arthur cried, forgetting all about meeting with his mother that morning. “Merlin, wake up.”  He shook Merlin awake.

 

            “Oh my god, what?”

 

            “We need to go.  I need to go home and shower and change so I can take my parents to the airport.  I completely forgot.”

 

            Merlin sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  “Yeah, all right,” he said.  He got up and got dressed in the same clothes he had on the night before.

 

            They left the hotel quickly, and drove back to Arthur’s flat.  He rushed to take a shower.  When he got out, Merlin was waiting for him, sitting on his bed.

 

            “Sorry, do you mind staying here?  I’ll be late if I wait for you to get ready.”

 

            “No, that’s okay,” said Merlin.

 

            “I’m glad it’s finally today.  Once my parents are in the air, we can stop pretending all of this.”

 

            “Stop pretending?”

 

            “Yeah, of course,” replied Arthur, pulling a jumper over his head.  “It’s exhausting lying all the time.”

 

            “Right.  Was any of it real for you?”

 

            “Last night was pretty real,” said Arthur. 

 

            “I meant, everything else.”

 

            “Like what?  I just mean – you’re not my girlfriend.”

 

            “Nope, that I’m not,” agreed Merlin, an angry tone to his voice.

 

            “You’re not glad it’s over?  Listen, I have to go.  We can talk about it more after.  I’ll see you later.”

 

            Arthur left the flat quickly.  He rushed back to the hotel to pick up his parents.  They agreed they could have a quick farewell over coffee before needing to go through security and catching their flight.  Uther still seemed overtly gruff, but he at least did not mention Merlin. His mother seemed happy, although there was a profound sadness in the way she said goodbye.  Arthur wondered whether this was going to be their last goodbye ever.  He hugged her for two moments longer than normal, and told her he loved her before both she and Uther walked away through security. 

 

            He drove home, his mind running through everything that had happened over the last few days.  He had to go back to work tomorrow, so he needed to sort through all his thoughts and feelings.  When he got back to his flat, Merlin wasn’t there.  He texted him, _Where are you?_

 

            _it was time to stop pretending_

_I’m not sure what that means._

 

            Merlin didn’t text him back, and Arthur didn’t know what to say.  He waited an hour, and then two, and then called Merlin’s mobile.  He didn’t answer.  It was weird being alone in his flat after seven days of always having Merlin by his side. He’d gotten used to the noise and the intrusion in his bed.  Even worse was this weird silence from Merlin; in the last several years, they hadn’t gone more than a few hours without talking or texting.

 

            Arthur went back to work the next day, consumed with new emotions that he had to push to the side so he could focus on his job.  None of this felt right.  During lunch, he pulled up MerlinsAddiction on his phone, but there weren’t any new posts. He didn’t know how to get Merlin to talk to him, so he at least made a couple of new posts of his own, hoping Merlin would see them.  This was ridiculous.  He looked at the picture of them at the rehearsal dinner.  It looked so natural and relaxed.  Whatever was happening with them right now was madness.

 

            He almost drove to his flat after work, but changed his mind and turned down the road that would take him to the flat Merlin shared with Gwen.  The building was much older than his, and he had to park on the side of the street and walk up two flights of concrete stairs to get to their floor.  He knocked on their door, but no one answered.  He had two choices: wait or leave. 

 

            “This is such bullocks,” he muttered and sat down on the top stair.  Luckily it was warm out because he left his jacket at the office.  A couple of Merlin’s neighbors passed him as they walked up to their own flats.  He was beginning to wonder if this was pointless when he heard Gwen’s voice from someone down below.  He watched as Gwen, Lance, and Merlin turned the corner of the stairs.

 

            “What are you doing here?” asked Merlin.

 

            “I came to see you since you won’t answer your phone.”  Arthur stood and took a few steps back to make room at the top of the stairs for his friends.  Lance and Merlin had takeaway bags in their hands and Gwen had a bottle of cheap wine.

 

            “Ah,” said Merlin.

 

            “Yeah, maybe you can fill in some holes,” said Gwen.  “How was the wedding?”

 

            “It was fine,” answered Arthur.

 

            “And your parents?  How were they?”

 

            “My father was crap as always and my mother was mostly lovely.”

 

            “Well that’s good,” said Gwen, “I was worried Merlin had fucked it up somehow since he’s been silent about the wedding.”

 

            “No,” said Arthur, “Merlin was great.  He may have actually helped things with my father, if that’s even possible.”

 

            “Interesting,” said Gwen. 

 

            “Can we talk?” Arthur asked Merlin.

 

            “No, please don’t drag this out,” he replied.  “Just say whatever you have to say.”

 

            “All right – well, truthfully, I’m not really sure what I did that you suddenly won’t talk to me.”

 

            “Are you kidding me?  You said you wanted to stop pretending and were glad it was over.”

 

            “Oh,” said Arthur, “er, I don’t think I meant what you think I did.”

 

            “Then what?”

 

            “This charade we played, it wasn’t real.  I’m glad the wedding is over so we can stop telling people this big lie about the start of our relationship.  It’s exhausting trying to keep the details straight.  You’re not my girlfriend and we had this whole week of – of – of closeness that we never got the chance to define.  If I’m going to call you anything of mine, I want it to be because we’ve talked about it and we want it, not because of some big lie we told my parents.”

 

            “Oh,” said Merlin.

 

            “ _Oh_ ,” said Gwen.

 

            “Well, I also sort of told you I loved you,” said Merlin, “and you didn’t say anything back.”

 

            “I thought that was obvious.”

 

            “I guess not.”

 

            “Jesus, Merlin,” snapped Arthur in frustration.  “I have those ticket stubs from that photography exhibit we went to in my wallet; I know you’ve seen them.  I like looking at them because they remind me of this perfect day we had together, even though it was months ago.  You’re practically the only person I have pictures of on my phone and sometimes I scroll through them before I go to bed because it makes me happy.  You stay at my flat almost every weekend and I haven’t been on a date in over a _year_ because all I do is spend time with you.  And honestly, I stopped even thinking about dating.”

 

            “Oh my god,” whispered Gwen.

 

            “Shh,” snapped Lance.  “I can’t hear if you keep talking.”

 

            “Can you two go inside, please?” asked Arthur.

 

            She shook her head.  “Never.”

 

            “Yeah, I guess,” said Merlin, ignoring them and focusing on Arthur. “But when you said you were happy to stop pretending … you made it sound like you were pretending through _all_ of it.”

 

            “That’s not what I meant!” cried Arthur, exasperated.  “We _slept_ together, Merlin.  Why would I do that if I was just pretending?  I wanted the _game_ part to be over, not the _you_ part.”

 

            Gwen let out a noise that sounded like a muffled scream.  “Did you hear that?” she whispered harshly to Lance.  Arthur glared at her for a moment before looking back at Merlin.

 

            “Listen, last week was the weirdest, craziest, happiest, most stressful week of my life so far.  But you were the best part of it.  You’re _always_ the best part of my weeks.”

 

            Merlin’s lips twitched as though he was struggling not to smile, but he didn’t say anything.

 

            “Oh, good grief, this is ridiculous,” barked Arthur.  “I let you fuck me!  Why would I do that if I wasn’t in love with you?”

 

            “Huh,” said Lance, “I didn’t see that coming.”

 

            “You two are really getting my nerves—”

 

            Merlin dropped the takeaway bag, stepped forward, and kissed Arthur.  He pressed their mouths together, and tangled his fingers in his hair.  He pulled away, but touched his forehead to Arthur’s.

 

            “I’m sorry,” said Merlin.  “I just jumped to conclusions.  I always thought I was going to spend my life hopelessly in love with you, and just get my heart broken.”

 

            “No,” said Arthur, shaking his head, “no.”

 

            “THANK GOD!” cried Gwen.  “I’ve spent so long trying not to yell at both of you to get over yourselves and just admit that you love each other!  Although,” she lowered her voice, “really, Arthur, I didn’t peg you for a bloke who, well, _gets_ pegged.”

 

            “Oh for fuck’s sake, Gwen,” said Arthur.  “That’s absolutely none of your business.”

 

            “Sorry,” she said with a laugh and a shrug.

 

            “Can you just get your bag and come back home, please?  We can finish our conversation there.”

 

            “You’re not going to do any talking there,” said Gwen, “and you know it.  Ah, don’t look at me like that!”

 

            “Yeah, hold on, I’ll be right back.”  Merlin turned and went into his flat.

 

            “You have no idea how stressful it’s been for me,” said Gwen.  “Knowing Merlin was pining away and you leading him on without even realizing that’s what you were doing.”

“What?  I never led him on!”

 

            Lance shook his head.  “She’s on some weird adrenalin rush after hearing all of _that_ and isn’t making any sense.  We’ve watched you take Merlin to dinner, the movies, out shopping, to art exhibits – oh, and then that one weekend in to the beach where you went to some work conference and took him along?  We were convinced that was the weekend you would come back a couple, but no. It was like you were dating him without actually dating him.”

 

            “Huh,” said Arthur, looking back, “I guess I never saw it like that.”

 

            “You were dating him,” said Gwen, “that’s what I kept saying.  Anyway, I’m going to hug you now because I’m so happy you two are finally together!”  She threw her arms around Arthur, hitting him in the back with the bottle of wine.    “But good for you for—”

 

            “If you mention anything about having sex, I’ll officially disown you as a friend.”

 

            Gwen grinned.  “All right. My lips are sealed.”

______

 

            In the end, Gwen was right, they didn’t really finish their conversation that night when they got back to Arthur’s flat.  They had sex again, this time was more enjoyable for Arthur, but he still wasn’t completely convinced.  Merlin scrolled through Arthur’s new Instagram posts – “Did you really use the hashtag ‘love-of-my-life’ on all these pictures of me?” – and then took Arthur’s phone to finally look through his photos – “Wow … you weren’t lying, almost all your pictures are of me … or your car … I dunno how I feel about that.”  They had their big talk the next night, over dinner, where they discussed what they wanted out of their new relationship.  They decided not to tell Arthur’s parents, but Morgana could know, and she’d probably find it deliciously hilarious. 

 

            Overall, it was easy to have a relationship with Arthur.  He was very arrogant and pompous but he loved Merlin fiercely, so it was easy to bicker, but just as easy to forgive.  They still did the same stuff they always did, especially their Friday night dinner tradition, but now they shared the same bed. It didn’t take long before Merlin was officially moved in, but he wanted to find a different flat, one that was both of theirs, so they did.  It took almost two months of looking before they were able to compromise.  It was an older building, but the insides were updated, a mashup of both their personalities.

 

            Arthur woke up every morning and took a shower first, got himself ready for work, and made Merlin’s coffee.  He toasted bread and put butter and jam on it for Merlin’s breakfast, and drove him to work. They went grocery shopping every Sunday and Merlin made dinner almost every night.  They still got takeaway from time to time, but Merlin convinced Arthur to take a cooking class with him and he enjoyed using all the techniques he learned at home.

 

            Lance and Gwen got engaged and asked Merlin and Arthur to be both best man and gentleman of honor.  They worked on their speeches on the flight to Arthur’s parents’ home for Christmas. It ended up being the last time Arthur saw his mother, and they buried her right after the New Year.  The loss was still raw at the wedding, but Arthur did his best to act happy for his friends.  Merlin sat with him when he needed to cry, held him when he needed comfort, and never once judged him for his vulnerable tears.  It was the first time he cried in front of Merlin – the first time he cried in front of anyone he’d ever dated.

 

            Morgana’s first wedding anniversary approached with the announcement she was expecting a baby.  It also marked the first real anniversary between him and Arthur.  They celebrated at the same hotel where Morgana got married, made love all weekend, and ended their festivities with Arthur asking Merlin to marry him.

 

            “We should really thank Marilyn,” said Merlin.

 

            “Why on earth would we do that?”

 

            “Because if you’d last dated a girl named Penny then you might be here with that weird guy from your football team named Percy instead of me.”

 

            “Never,” said Arthur.  “But I’ll toast to her anyway.”

 

            “To Marilyn – whose name so closely resembled mine we thought it was a grand idea to fake a relationship, which turned into fucking, which turned into love.”

 

            “How eloquent.” 

 

            “Well, I try,” said Merlin.

 

            Arthur grinned, and kissed him.

______


End file.
